A Cure for Love
by halfpromise
Summary: Light and L fall in love during the Yotsuba arc and Light's master plan is derailed when an assassin steals the Death Note. The threat of Kira is dwarfed when Kira's powers seem to have fallen into the hands of a terrorist organization known as Astraea and Light and L are united to find the culprit, but for how long...
1. The Boy With a Thorn in His Side

Disclaimer. I don't own Death Note or the song lyrics herein. It saddens me. All I will earn from writing this is a string of late nights.

This is crackish and very much dependent upon whether you have a rather warped sense of humour or not. I would also say that it doesn't really kick off until a good few chapters in (possibly a dozen chapters in actually, having reread it) but I suppose that you have to set these things up somehow. You could jump in at chapter 12 for the beginning of the bitchslaps, although it might be confusing at times.

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

**The Boy with the Thorn in His Side/This is How I End Up So Tense**

_How can they look into my eyes and still they don't believe me_

_How can hear me say those words and still they don't believe me_

_And if they don't believe me now will they ever believe me?_

- The Boy with the Thorn in his Side - The Smiths

* * *

"Ryuzaki."

Watari's body complained of tiredness as he dragged himself up against the headboard. L Lawliet was standing at the end of his bed and through bleary, un-spectacled eyes he looked vaguely like a George A. Romero film extra. He certainly had the posture down pat.

It wasn't the first time that Watari had woken up to the sight of feral-haired L standing over him in the middle of the night. It was, however, the first time since the beginning of the Kira investigation. He wasn't exactly a comforting sight to wake up to. Watari reached for his glasses from his bedside table and his vision focused in on that strangely endearing little face under all that hair, waiting patiently. Watari couldn't prevent the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in humour. Poor L. All he needed was a blue comfort blanket dragging behind him from a weakly held fist and it'd be like Linus van Pelt from Snoopy was in the room, live and in person.

He better not be here to ask for tea and a sackful of sugar.

"L? What's wrong?" Watari asked.

"I have chained Light-kun to the bed. He's asleep now."

"Oh. Right. I did wonder where he was. I trust that there's a good reason for it."

A big part of Watari didn't want to know the reason.

"Watari, I wanted to make sure that the countermeasures I requested have been ensured in the event of my death."

* * *

_1st August 2004_

Each moment was measured by constant tapping of computer keys. The metronome sound was a near constant background noise in L's new and highly prized piece of Tokyo real estate. Unlike their in last base, any noise here was amplified and bounced off the walls.

Light gave up on burying himself under a cloud of pillow and duvets (an attempt to block out the noise... or suffocate himself, one of the two) and half-heartedly wondered what time it was. Sometimes Light lost track of whether it was night or day as there were no windows in the main room of the headquarters. Also, if Ryuzaki was the same here as he was at the hotel then Light knew that, despite his most fervent attempts, the blackout curtain would always kept drawn in the bedroom they shared. There were no visible means to show the passage of time once he'd taken his wrist watch off and laid it face-down on the bedside table.

In was like living in a vacuum. Some hellish vacuum.

The whole situation increasingly resembled a rather ill-advised scouting trip only without the bracing walks in the forest. Though Light was provided with more than decent bathroom facilities and surprisingly luxurious bed linen, this was offset by the fact that he was physically chained to another man.

Another man who didn't seem to understand the concept of sleep and who smelt of a French patisserie. Oh, and a man who thought that Light was a mass murderer of numbers that a war criminal would be proud of.

Now Light remembered that he decided against living in halls when he started university because it was inevitable that he'd end up with an insane flatmate who probably stapled dead animals to the wall and had a human skull on the mantle piece.

Since L hadn't, as yet, found a good enough reason to walk further afield in the time they had been chained together, Light reasoned that his life was not that much more improved from being locked in the cell. Actually, in retrospect, the cell had a lot going for it. He wasn't chained to some weird guy in the cell. Light missed the cell.

He sat up abruptly and gazed blankly at the bringer of all this woe into his life. The familiar curvature of the spine, the fingertip fluctuating between hesitantly hovering and lazily perfoming a tap dance across the laptop keys.

Light felt homesick. No, not homesick - heartsick.

If he could give the cell another chance he could make it more homely. It wouldn't be so bad this time! At least there he could sleep without the incessant drumming of keyboards and munching of sweets. Light rolled back onto his back and released a long, drawn-out sigh to the ceiling.

"Are you all right Light-kun?" came the familiar tone of the phantom tapper who stared like a demented owl down upon him.

"All right? Yes. Well, no actually. Could you give that a rest, Ryuzaki?" he indicated by jolting his fingers over an imaginary keyboard in mid-air. A perfect impression of L's two-fingered, staccato typing skills.

"The sound is annoying to you, am I right? Do you think that it's this sound which is keeping you awake at night?"

Ah, thinly veiled inquisition masquerading as concern. Nice.

"Yes, it really is. Annoying, that is," Light replied, propping himself up on an elbow to confront the problem head on. "It's just that it's who knows what in the morning and there's a time and a place for everything. Now is not the time for typing. What are you doing anyway?"

"The case never sleeps Light-kun. I'm looking through my notes and amending data to reflect events since," L answered, peculiarly animated all of a sudden. "As you know, the killings have resumed but the victims point to a new Kira. I'm endeavouring to find links or major discrepancies between these and previous Kira mur – "

"I'm sure that Kira, whoever they may be, is sleeping right now, dreaming of bunnies and fluffy kittens, so could this wait until tomorrow?" Light interrupted, rubbing his head as the drone of Ryuzaki's voice threatened to bore a hole into his skull.

"You're quite humorous Light-kun. This is most unlike you."

"I'm not trying to be. Please, Ryuzaki." Light sighed, feeling forlorn, he let his arms drop limply to the bed instead of propping up his head, which, denied it's much necessary support, also drooped as if suddenly too heavy for his neck. "I can't do this. I need sleep."

"I'm not preventing you from sleeping."

"Don't say that! You know that you are! You're doing it so I can't think straight. You're doing this so I'll confess to … whatever. You'll make me so crazy that I'll say that I'm Jack the Ripper and the Zodiac. You! And your _tapping_! You're like a one man seance. Once for yes, twice for no. If you're not tapping the keyboard, you're tapping a spoon on a cup. You're tapping a boiled sweet against your teeth. You're tapping your fingers on the table. You're tapping the side of your head. You're tapping – "

"Light-kun, really, you're becoming hysterical," L said, blinking once to emphasise the point.

"I'm not hysterical, I'm just … " Light breathed out, defeated. "Tired. I'm tired, Ryuzaki. I can't work like you. I need eight hours of sleep a night but I'd be happy with six. Hell, at the moment I'd be happy with one hour. You and I, we just don't … we're not working out. Our lifestyles, our working habits are too different. I thought I could adjust but I really, _really_ can't. Look, I was thinking, couldn't I be put into a cell again at night? It'd be better all round. I'd be able to sleep and you'd be able to work in peace without me attached to your wrist. All the cameras are still operational, right? You and Watari can still keep an eye on me. Ryuzaki?"

L appeared to consider this, thumbing his bottom lip idly while staring at the carpet

"Hmmm... I understand what you're saying. Perhaps I have been too selfish. I am aware that my work ethic is stronger than most. I simply reasoned that you would share this. We seem quite similar in terms of intellectual ability. You seemed so eager to apprehend Kira. I was mistaken."

Great, so now this was a matter of his dedication to the case. Light could almost see the calculator of L's mind working out the percentages of how this affected his probability of being Kira.

"L... Ryuzaki, the case has nothing to do with it," Light said exasperated. "I just need some sleep. Please. I think you would benefit too, instead of catnapping."

"I do not catnap," L said resolutely, tapping open another browser window, refocussing his attention and _ignoring_ Light because a line had been crossed. Yes, there was a line and it was the mention of catnapping and Light had crossed it. Now he would feel L's wrath. He would be subjected to so much tapping he'd feel like he was living with the motherload of poltergeists.

"Woooah, do you ever catnap! You did it this afternoon. Sitting up, with a lollypop in your mouth," Light argued.

"I was resting my eyes."

"Oh, of course you were."

"There is no need to be brusque, Light-kun," L said, waving a lazy gesture in Light's direction with one hand while clicking open another browser window on his laptop with the other. Light pulled harshly on the chain that connected him to L, catching the detective off guard and pulling him over sideways across the bed. His head landed on a level with Light's knees.

"Just try this once, Ryuzaki. Otherwise I will go mad and strangle you and then you will never know who Kira was." Light smiled mischievously, quickly turning over, snuggling into his pillow and switching off the light in an instant, determined that this would be the end of the matter. Perhaps L was like an animal who only understood action and not reasoning. It would be ironic if that was the case. A man who lived and breathed reason but was unable to understand it in the most basic of terms. Light squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the silence. He felt L slowly raise himself from the bed and could almost feel his eyes fixed upon him, even in the darkness. Light silently challenged him, clenching his fist in anticipation. _Go on. I dare you. You have no idea, do you? Just try it you boney bag of chalk. _This was a line that _he_ was drawing. It was a matter of respect as much as anything else.

Despite fully expecting L to prop himself up and start clacking again on his computer, Light felt a little shifting and dipping in the bed beside him. Not a word of protest, nothing. Just stillness and perfect quiet apart from the remnants of anger pulsing through his own temples. Well, this was unexpected.

Light, despite his amazement and an unbearable urge to turn the lamp on and stare at L and this miraculous turn of events, stayed exactly where he was.

* * *

He opened his eyes, not with a start and not with the usual sharp impact with the floor as L dragged him off the bed by the handcuffs with linked them. Light awoke serenely, feeling as refreshed as he had in a long time. The first thing he did was look at his watch on the beside table. He grabbed at it like it was a 100 yen note floating down to earth and stared earnestly at the clock face. Six hours had passed. Seriously?

"Good morning, Light-kun. I trust you slept well."

"Ryuzaki,"

Sitting up in bed, resting against the headboard he turned his face towards L who, like a mirror image, was also sitting up in bed, resting against the headboard, his face turned towards Light. The only difference was that he was crouching.

L had let him sleep. This gesture surprised Light by how much it meant to him. He was aware that he wasn't a terribly emotional person but he truly was touched by this. He doubted that L actually slept during those six hours. He had probably just sat there - in the dark, his brain ticking over but being unable to express himself. Yes, Light felt incredibly thankful to L for allowing him to sleep. Pathetic really, but then this was his life now.

"If you're rested now, then perhaps we could have some coffee? I have waited, as you can see." L's eyes were impossibly wide and cartoonish, like a startled deer.

"Yes, I see. Coffee would be nice."

Light threw on a bathrobe and slippers over his pyjamas while L simply stood and waited like a scruffy lost street urchin. He always made a slightly comical figure, being a little eerie in his stillness and his peculiar mannerisms. Light stopped being taken aback by L's idiosyncrasies a long time ago but every now and then he looked at L and evaluated him anew. The way he hunched himself over as if he were Atlas, burdened with the world upon his shoulders. The orb-like dark eyes ringed with shadows and framed by the spiky mop of thick black hair. The way his entire wardrobe was made up of the same white long-sleeved t-shirt and stonewashed denim jeans. Yes, quite an odd bird.

Light on the other hand was one of those blessed people who looked as if he was born wearing a cashmere sweater and the finest quality trousers with a comb in his back pocket. Always so perfect and unflustered that you would think that even if he were to break a sweat, he would smell of Davidoff's "Cool Waters".

Once in the small kitchen which adjoined their room, Light immediately started preparing the coffee in silence while L seated himself in an almost-normal fashion at the tiny kitchen table. He looked as if he was trying to impersonate a piece of crumpled newspaper. With eyes.

"So, what's the itinerary for today?" Light enquired placing a cup down on the table. Unless anything had presented itself in a holy vision to L during the night, Light was determined to continue where he had left off. He had been investigating some recent deaths attributed to Kira. Some of the victims were very intriguing; they didn't seem to have many skeletons in their closet, well, no more than any other white collar. Wife and kids in the suburbs, floozy in a penthouse in Shibuya. What linked these deaths? Perhaps they were hits. Had Kira turned assassin? However, though Light felt he was getting somewhere, that was exactly the reason that made him nervous. It was usually at this point that L yanked the rug from under him and gave him something else to do instead. Light hated leaving anything unfinished, and that coupled with the L's disrespect of his work often played on his mind.

"I'd like to go back to the Misora case," L muttered, thumbing his upper lip.

Oh.

"Ok. What can I do?" Light said, biting down on a piece of toast.

"Well, Light-kun, I've been thinking. It's highly irregular of me to have my lead suspect look into the case of people who I think you killed, isn't it?" Light simply sighed.

"What can I do then? I don't want to be the tea boy."

"Oh no, you couldn't take Matsuda's job. No, it's just your luck that I'm highly irregular. I'd like you to study footage from the train stations heading out of Tokyo on and around the 1st of January."

"Ok." Bumped off the real case and thrown onto a cold one. The whole thing reeked of L marking his territory as head honcho. Light had been too vocal yesterday in telling the team of his suspicions about Kira3. He'd stolen L's thunder and now L was pissed off.

However, Light was nothing if not adaptable. If L wanted him to investigate the Misora disappearance, then he would. Maybe if he could find something, something to prove that he wasn't any part of Naomi Misora's death. Maybe if he did that then L might realise that he wasn't Kira after all. L was convinced that Misora was killed by Kira after she started investigating the death of her fiancee, Ray Penber, who definitely _was _killed by Kira because, seriously, how many 28 year-old, healthy young men drop down dead of heart attacks? Also, this particular 28 year-old and healthy FBI agent was brought in to monitor Kira suspects, of which Light was one. It was even made more suspicious since he died at around the same time that an entire group of agents assigned to the Kira case also keeled over. Light struggled to swallow the tangled knot of anxiety in his throat. He knew it all looked grim.

"A bus driver gave a statement to say that he spoke to Misora on the 29th of December," L continued. "She asked him to id her fiancé as being a passenger in the bus-jacking and proceeded to ask him what he remembered."

"What did he say?" asked Light.

"Enough to convince her that Kira was on the bus that day."

Light couldn't repress a laugh at the idea of the mythical Kira taking the #124 bus to Spaceland.

"Where were you on that day, Light-kun? You were among the suspects being tracked by Penber after all but his notes for you on this day were very brief, almost as if you were boring him with your mundaneness." The eyes were on him and they were as unforgiving as a downfall.

"I don't remember. I'd have to check my diary," Light answered, shuffling through papers and letters and, oooh look, a letter from Mum and Sayu which his Dad must have had to run past L first. It was already open. Light glanced resentfully at L and stuffed the mangled envelope into his trouser pocket.

Right, back to it. Where were you on so-and-so? They'd had this same conversation at least 3 times. They both knew where he was and what he'd done that day. They knew it inside out. Perhaps the first time the questioning and the ruthless 'I don't believe a word that comes out of your mouth' L patented stare might have fazed him. If anything, today at least, the repetition and the predictability was rather soothing. It was like discussing the weather over the morning papers with a normal person. Except L wasn't a normal person.

"I have your diary and you wrote that you studied all day. You went into some detail while discussing your love of the subjunctive mood in English grammar," L said.

"Well, then, I must have been doing that."

"Hmmm..." rolled L as he inspected, deemed worthy and deposited a chocolate truffle into his mouth. "I like the subjunctive mood also," he added, licking a finger.

"How nice for you," Light replied, averting his eyes and sipping his coffee. Suddenly the ceiling looked very appealing.

"That's interesting, Light-kun. In your diary entry you positively enthused about the finer points of the subjunctive mood. Now, basic psychology would suggest that if such a person met another person with similar interests, especially something as unusual as the subjunctive mood, then they would exhibit feelings of excitement at having found someone who shares his passion."

"I'm not _passionate_ about it, Ryuzaki."

"I pose to you that you are not interested in the subjunctive mood at all and that your diary entry was falsified," L said quickly, staring intently into Light's eyes. Annoyingly, Light's heart started racing.

"No! Why would I lie about something like that? I could just have said, 'Studied. Had dinner. It was outstanding. Went to bed.' I might had been temporarily enamoured with English grammar but I'm not going to start a fanzine for the subjunctive mood."

"That's disappointing. You're right in your argument though, of course," L said, reaching for another truffle. "Cherry!" he said, holding up the evidence.

* * *

"Ryuzaki, may I speak with you for a moment?" Watari's asked. Jeeves to L's Wooster.

"Is it something that can be discussed in front of Light-kun or does it require ear buds?" L replied blandly while perusing a red and white striped sweet.

"I'll be on line 3," Watari said, shuffling off into another room. Light grimaced as L screwed an earphone into one ear and then placed a thumb to the indentation in the centre of his bottom lip.

"Please excuse my rudeness, Light-kun," he said, briefly inclining his head in Light's direction.

"Not at all," Light replied and continued typing - the ideal of good breeding.

"Hmmm?" L droned, and in that single non-word there was a tone of familiarity which had, to this point, been lacking. Light turned and was unsurprised to find that L was clearly now listening to Watari. It was Watari who was clearly doing most of the talking considering the pauses between L's sulky statements. "I doubt that he could have left the country," L muttered. "They're probably together. Really though, this is hardly my concern. It's entirely up to him if he chooses to come back. The other will undoubtedly follow. I can't be troubled by his petulant strops. They are more than able to look after themselves."

L spoke in English with an accent straight out of an E.M Forster adaptation. He continued, answering questions while inspecting his no-mans land of a nail bed.

"Yes," L continued, "but I haven't named anyone, officially. In any case, it seems that he's made his mind up. I'm hardly going to force him. It is, after all, a voluntary position," he said, biting down hard on his thumb. "No, don't contact her. She'll probably be furious anyway. Ultimately, he's of an age when he can do such things, give or take a few months. Any obligations are imaginary. I just hope that they don't make a bother of themselves. What is expected from me in any case? If you and R are concerned then you can organise a tracker. Hmm, do. They're quite distinctive as well as socially inept. They are likely stealing from a supermarket as we speak. Right? Yes."

Light sniggered to himself as L abruptly removed the earphone, throwing it upon the quagmire of a desk.

"What is it, Light-kun?"

"Nothing, just the 'socially inept' bit."

"Ah, so you _were_ listening?"

"I couldn't really _not_ listen. You were speaking very loudly."

"I was not. My vocal volume was certainly nearer 35 decibels than 70. What is humourous about anything I said?"

"Socially inept. Pot. Kettle. Black."

"_I_ am not socially inept."

"No?"

"No. I'm eccentric," L stated, as if he'd been reliably informed that it was the case. He craned over from his crouched position to pick up a rogue foil-wrapped chocolate which had foolishly tried to escape across the desk.

Light's eyes followed L's motion as he splayed himself across the work-surface. He was temporarily distracted by L's side of the desk - the sprawling chaos of a disturbed and impoverished artist with a cake fixation. On the other hand, Light's was the ideal workspace of an Ikea advert, if, perhaps, lacking in personality. Of course, Light didn't think so. Somewhere between them, there was an invisible line and over that line their personal stationery must not venture. A stapler had already found itself on a monitor base shared between the two and was declared out of bounds. Light compared the two sides of the desk and felt the familiar stirring of pride. Then he suddenly felt sad and extremely bored.

"There's no way I can spot Misora during the rush hour trains, Ryuzaki. If she didn't want to be traced, which seems the case, it's likely that she chose one of those. I'd have to know in what direction she was heading," Light said, flopping back into his seat and resisting the bizarre urge to spin.

"She had friends in the North," L said helpfully.

"The North of where? Ryuzaki, that is not helpful. This is impossible. Can I look at the rest of your case file?"

"No."

"What?"

"Get your own," L snapped. Light stared in disbelief for a moment.

"I'm going to have a coffee," he said finally, standing in frustration and running a hand through his hair - the very definition of a hard-working underwear model. He yanked the chain which bound him to L mercilessly.

"I'll have Watari bring you one," muttered L, allowing his boneless arm to be shaken like a branch in the wind.

"I don't want Watari-san to bring me one. I'm not used to having someone looking after me. I'm perfectly capable of making my own coffee."

"He doesn't mind."

Light fixed L with a icy stare. L physically backed down, sinking into his chair and gingerly unfurling one slim leg, placing a foot upon the floor, followed by another, eventually standing like a scolded child.

* * *

"What a completely wasted day."

"I don't know why you feel like that, Light-kun. There's plenty of work to do."

"For you, yes, but you're restricting the amount of work I can do."

"Would you like to visit Amane-san? Maybe a visit would lighten your mood."

"No, maybe tomorrow." If anything, seeing Misa would be the cherry on the icing of the cake of a horrible day.

"Seems a shame since she's in the building and lives for seeing your face," L mused. As he leant forwards his hair fell across his face like crows in flight.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I beg your pardon, she lives only for watching daytime TV hosted by a stuffed crocodile AND for seeing your face."

Light just about managed to stifle a smile. L caught his eye - a glimpse of black hair and wide eyes coming into view as L curled in upon himself to get a better view of Light's down-turned face, peering at him like he was a scientific exhibit. Light couldn't resist breaking a wide grin.

"What a handsome smile you have, Light-kun," L remarked, though his expression was sour. He righted himself again as straight as his spine allowed him to.

"I've never seen you smile, ever," Light observed, feeling a dull ache of warmth in his cheeks.

"Not in all these many weeks that we've known each other? Surely not," L said, his interest now caught by the cityscape framed within the window in the hallway.

"Well, I saw something which I thought at the time might have been a smile, but looking back I think it was more of a grimace."

"A sort of gurning affair?" L inquired.

"Something like that."

"Ah. Well, I have been known to smile. Last time I did I think there was a party in it's honour , but in general there's rarely anything which warrants a smile."

"No. No I suppose not," Light agreed, joining L in gazing across the tall cement, glass and steel monoliths in the distance.

"She's really not that stupid, despite her doing her very best to appear as vacuous as she can," L said.

"Misa? She might have her moments."

"It must have quite distressing to come home and find your family murdered, only to watch the perpetrator evade justice," L said, his voice strangely emotionless.

"Yes," Light replied simply.

"However, considering that psychological trauma, she is most definitely and unsurprisingly unbalanced. She exhibits signs of erotomania in relation to you, Light-kun."

"I wouldn't go that far." In reality, Light did agree with the assessment and would go that far, but he couldn't possibly voice that opinion. "It's a crush. I can handle it."

"Yes, by avoidance. I dealt with a case where the victim handled it in the same way as you're doing. Didn't end well."

"They died?"

"No, but 56 other people did when their stalker decided that their deaths would be an appropriate tribute."

"Oh, that's comforting," Light said, distractedly rubbing his hand over his arm.

"Do you love her, Light-kun?"

"What? No. I mean... she's a nice girl but I can't really get to involved in something like that at the moment, what with university and the NPA and everything." 'Everything' was rather loaded.

"Of course. You have your priorities."

"You think I'm callous."

"I didn't say that," L said to the window.

"It was inferred," Light said, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't believe so."

Non-committal. Marvellous. Light studied L's profile for a few more moments before turning back towards the window as the thousands of people in nearby skyscrapers hurriedly tidied their desks, switched off computers, pulled on their coats and rushing but not rushing downstairs to return to their homes, their families, their lovers, their cats.

It wasn't a life that L or Light wanted. It was one thing they had in common. Neither of them really knew what they wanted.

* * *

Rem didn't look happy. But then, when did she look happy. She certainly didn't like being told to piss off out of his flat while he was busy. She didn't like his bit of stuff.

He might as well write it now while he could and then go back to bed. Get it out of the way.

The news channels were on mute as usual. Maybe he'd be lucky and the person he was about to kill would drop dead in a store or on the train or in a bar – somewhere where the panic couldn't be contained and the news would spread like wild fire. People would crowd, watching with morbid interest as the contorted corpse was carted out on a stretcher. Even with a white sheet draped across, tucked around the body neatly, imaginations would do the work. The paramedics would parade through the crowd and into the waiting ambulance amid the street noise and the hushed whispers of 'Kira'. An almost reverent hush would follow. Divine judgement was here, so close. Girlfriends would crave comfort by forcing themselves into the crevice of their lover's open arms. _Consider your choices._ Others would phone their loved ones, just to hear a voice they knew. The pleas for them to come home would set their legs moving again away from the death and the darkness. They'd get a coffee on the way back and the black thoughts would be gone by the morning.

The crowd would disperse once the ambulance doors closed. It would drive off, all oyster white and blinding lights and in no real hurry. There was no point to be in a hurry.

Kyosuke Higuchi directed his cruel eyes to the the oil-like rippled blackness of the Death Note. He always knew that he was meant for great things. It was a strange feeling, still new, he supposed. He hadn't adjusted to being able to write a name down and simply wait for the confirmation. He'd prefer it if it was reported on the news quickly or someone phoned him to let him know. Then he could sleep soundly. Part of him didn't trust the Death Note because he didn't understand it. He didn't trust Rem - that silent catacomb of bones. Strange, she tried to tell him something earlier but he cut her off. She was insistent but so was he. He didn't want to hear it. Not when he was entertaining.

Perhaps he'd got something wrong - messed the name up? What was Rem trying to say?

"_Your numbers have changed."_

Numbers. Whatever.

Ah, the Death Note. The power - that royal flush of power as he controlled who lived and died. Rem had asked him to kill criminals, which he did, but he also wanted to dispose of some irritants of his own as well. She didn't seem very pleased about it. She was hungry for the lives of criminals for some reason. He didn't ask. She didn't tell. He'd kill indiscriminately, killing any poor sod in the paper or on the news. His own killings - the people he'd killed so far were few: an ex-girlfriend, the bastard at Sony who gave that job in Berlin to someone else, and a few guys at work. They'd simply taken a moment of his time. Ending the lives of criminals he didn't know was be strange. He had trouble remembering their names and faces by the afternoon.

Anyway, wasn't this Kira's job? He supposed that he was Kira now.

As long as he complied with Rem's request then he was able to use to the Death Note to further his own interests. Soon, the Yotsuba Group was going to monopolise the market and he'd sweep the board. Still, part of him thought that all this was temporary, like a genie with only three wishes. Too good to be true for long.

The paper was sandy beneath his fingers as they glided across the cover, peeling back a few pages, trying to blot out the writhing image of that girl from the bar which had been burned into his corneas and visualise the face of Tarō Yamada, the CEO at Yamada Corporations instead.

_Picture it, let it become you, write the name, forget it. Wait for the sirens._

Knocking out the competition wasn't exactly backbreaking. The name was written, a fate was sealed. A quick glance at the watch and then back to fantasising the girl who was worth going back for.

Higuchi stood in front of the safe and tossed the notebook back inside. Heard the hollow sound as the spine struck steel. He made to close the door.

Then he felt the gun at his back.

The coolness of the metal pressed against his vertebrae. Cool down to the bone. He felt it through his thin shirt and it spread across his body like fear. It was fear. There were no words, just the threat.

"I've got a couple of grand in the safe," he offered. "Take it and go."

_Yeah, take it and see how far you can get with it before I hunt you down._

Amazing what money can do. The cold pressure lifted – his cue to hand over the money, he supposed. His shoulders fell slack in relief. He slowly opened the safe door wide again and pulled out the wad of paper bills.

The sound echoed lightly around the room - a dull thud from the silencer. His knees hitting the floor made more noise.

Then he felt nothing. The blood pooled around his head and dyed the corners of the money on the floor.


	2. Keen on Boys

**Chapter 2**

** Keen on Boys**

_Hello, my dearest father_

_It's your favourite son_

_There's some things that I'm regretting_

_I am destroyer_

_I am lover_

_Death to Death ~ _Stars

* * *

3rd August 2004

"Light."

Sochiro Yagami's voice echoed eerily behind Light in the hazy corridor. Was something burning? His body stopped almost on command when he heard his father's voice.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

Sochiro sounded so, so tired. Light often had to remind himself of what this man had been through. Within a short space of time he'd suffered a heart attack and insisted upon being locked in a cell because his son was under surveillance for mass murder. Did he do it because he believed in Light or because he thought it was true? And if it was true, it was his fault. If Light had done this thing, Soichiro might as well had done it himself. What must it be like to be told that your only son is Kira? What must it be like for a man like Sochiro Yagami to be told that his son is Kira?

"I'm sorry, Light"

The words made Light look down at his halted shoes, stark against the bare ivory tiled floor. It was almost like they were painted onto a blank canvas. Was he really here at all? Was that shame? No, no, never shame.

No, there was something about his father's voice which seemed...wrong. He felt himself turning back to face him.

There, about 20 feet away, his father stood firmly. His expression was pained but resolute, his arm outstretched with a gun in his hand. Behind him, a huge black crow-like monster laughed disgustingly and wrote in a small book which was cupped in his hand.

"Light, my son. From one murderer to another."

"Wait, NO!" His screams were so frantic that he almost didn't hear the gun fire, the sound of tearing cloth and flesh and bone. The feeling of warmth spreading across his chest. When he looked down, a slick of the darkest, richest red slowly encircled the outline of his shoes and spread out below him. Around his shadow. Blood red wings.

* * *

"NO!" he screamed, awaking to darkness.

"Light-kun, are you alright?"

"Wha... I..." he stuttered as the realisation came to him.

"A nightmare Light-kun?"

"I never dream."

"Everyone does Light-kun, only most of the time they are not recalled when you wake. Your brain is simply attempting to process..." L broke off when he heard the haphazard breathing next to him. Light searched frantically across his own chest, then, apparently assured all was well, he sank back into the bed. "Are you all right Light-kun," L said quietly, reaching out towards him in the dark.

"I'm fine."

"What did you dream about?"

"You only want to know so that you can analyse it."

"No. Well, yes. I probably will but I _am_ genuinely concerned."

Light breathed out a tired laugh.

"Light-kun?" L repeated.

"I'm fine, Ryuzaki."

"Please tell me."

Light sighed, turning his head briefly towards where he expected L would be.

"I dreamt that my father shot me."

"Oh."

"And the analysis is?"

"I'm sorry Light-kun."

"Rubbish. I want my money back." Light made a weary smile, closing his eyes again and rubbing his hand across his forehead and wished that the room wasn't so bloody dark that he was talking to some disembodied voice. There was just silence next to him now. "Are you smiling?" Light said reaching over to the lamp beside him.

"Don't, Light."

"Oh. Ok. Sorry," Light said, gently falling back.

"It's obviously a latent result of the orchestration involving yourself, Amane-san and your father." L stated. "One interpretation would be that you feel guilty for putting any stress on your father."

'But if that was the case, wouldn't I kill him?' Light thought. No, he knew what it meant. L knew what it meant but he was being ...what? Comforting? He'd never held back hurtful comments from Light before.

"Thank you, L."

"You're welcome, Light. I... I didn't know if I could remember how to be kind."

"You were kind," Light breathed softly. "That was kindness."

Light had never thought L capable of lying to make him feel better, even though it was useless since they both knew what the other was thinking. It was the pretence which belied the hidden care beneath it. Almost without realising it, Light drew himself closer to L. He could just make out his profile in the dim light, reminding him of a silhouette portrait. Somehow in the darkness it wasn't real. He could see only darkness but could feel warmth and solidity beneath him. Strange not to see him clearly, like this. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing himself, because weren't they the same, really?

All these months, from being kept in isolation in that cell, L was the one constant. He was his captor, of course. The bitter resent continued to raise hackles he never knew he had, but then, even after the incident in the car with his father, Light couldn't wholly blame L. He could understand his reasoning. There were many blocks of time which he couldn't account for, something he put down to stress. The most worrying aspect of this scenario, the part which concerned him the most, was that he could _understand_ Kira. Merely understanding him made him feel as if he should be punished. Over this time, he'd gone from harbouring an astonished feeling which bordered on hatred, to a deep respect for this strange man, only a little older than himself. Someone which Light had underestimated so severely.

However, one of the many sad results of all this was how it had affected his relationship with his father. Awkward silences and watching the pressing together of hands which had once held a gun to his head. Here was a man who'd so convincingly played the part of a father and yet he was prepared to blow a third eye into the skull of his son. He hadn't, obviously, but Light would never had imagined that his father would go along with a plan like that. He couldn't forgive him and he couldn't understand him. Light felt himself becoming more and more isolated, that is, if he ever was anything other than isolated. With only L for company, he realised that it was the only company he saw any value in anyway, in spite of himself.

He leant down and brushed against soft, swollen, dry lips. He felt L flinch slightly at the touch and Light smiled to himself that he'd taken the great detective by surprise and that his actions had had such an effect on a person who often seemed to be carved out of a pillar of stone.

L.

This was L underneath him. The realisation shook him back to reality as if he'd been burnt. He hastily pushed himself away, switching on the bedside lamp in panic as he did so. Feeling his feet fall flat on the floor, he cupped his head in his hands as he cringed upon the edge of the bed. The light from the lamp brought him back to himself but he couldn't bare to look at L.

"God, I'm sorry, L. I'm sorry. I don't know... I just."

"Light-kun," L said, his voice deeper than usual. Tinged with sadness.

"Don't, please. I'm just a bit fucked up at the moment. I'm sorry. Just forget it happened, if you can. God, I'm so embarrassed," he said, finding himself tearing at his own hair.

"There's no need to apologise."

"Ha, yeah, perfectly reasonable. Look, I don't _do_ this kind of thing. I am genuinely fucked up," Light protested.

"Very well. I'm trying not be offended," L replied.

"Urgh, I didn't mean it like that. Oh, this day just gets worse and worse and I've only been awake for five minutes."

"It happened. The more you beat yourself up and tear your hair out about it will just make it more awkward. And you'll be bald."

"Yes, I better stop, I suppose," Light said, letting his arms fall and his hands rest upon his knees.

"You owe it to your hairdresser," L reassured him.

"I am sorry though. Really. I think I was confused."

"You _were_ confused?" L repeated.

"Hmm," Light agreed when hearing it spoken aloud but ignored the emphasis. He felt slightly fortified.

"But you're not anymore," L said decisively.

"No. Well, a little. Mostly embarrassed and ...maybe I should see a psychiatrist?" Light said, words spilling over each other, coming out of his mouth as quick as his brain could form them.

"Do I really have that effect?" L said.

"No!" Light said spinning around to face him. Eyes. Oooh, a bit too soon. He averted his gaze to the pillow again.

L rushed the words out the door, sounding more than a little flustered, "Look, we'll forget about it. These things happen, I'm sure. I've read accounts of soldiers in the Belgian Congo being taken unaware by... waking up in the night and hormones and bad things."

"You have? Soldiers in the Belgian Congo?"

"They're very manly," L said emphatically.

"They must be," Light agreed. He didn't care if it was bollocks. At the moment he'd chosen to believe anything L said, hook, line and sinker as long as it diverted attention from the fact that he'd spontaneously kissed him in the middle of the night, in a bed, in the dark, and for a reason he didn't quite understand. His mind and body seemed to be playing tricks on him and he didn't like it one bit.

"And the Spartans. Remember the Spartans," L continued.

Yes. Remember the Spartans, Light thought. Hold on, what about the Spartans?

"The fact is, it will be quite difficult if you are unable to look at me ever again. We have to think of the investigation," L said, believing his own propaganda.

"Yes, you're right."

"So, we'll just go to sleep again, yes?"

"You weren't asleep," Light corrected.

"Well, I'll go to sleep this time. Do you want a glass of water or anything first?"

"No thank you. I'm not really sure why people would need water after this sort of situation."

"There must be a reason. People have receptacles which are kept in anticipation of this very situation."

"But I don't need any."

"Ok."

"Do you? I'm not saying there's anything wrong with wanting water it's just that I don't. But you might need some and I wouldn't want to stop you or make you feel awkward. Y'know, if you want some." Light groaned that drinking water in the middle of the night had become so awkward to discuss.

"I'm fine," L replied.

"Right. Good."

"I've never seen Light-kun babble. Even throughout your confinement you never babbled."

"Oh. Well, I wouldn't like to say that I never have. I might have done when I was little but I don't remember it."

"Obviously being accused of being a mass murderer is one thing but kissing another man is another thing entirely."

"Stop it!"

"Sorry, have I misunderstood? Do you normally react to kisses in this way, regardless of the sex of the recipient?"

"What? No! Just … let's just stop talking, ok? No water. Just sleep," Light said, flinging himself down on the bed, creeping over as far to the edge of the bed as he could without rolling off.

"Goodnight, Light-kun. I hope you don't have any more nightmares," L said to the boy's back before reaching over to switch over to turn off the lamp on Light's bedside table. Light winced at L's arm above him.

"Goodnight, Ryuzaki. I am sorry."

"Please stop apologising or I'll throw myself out of the window. My ego has taken a bit of a battering."

"Ok, sor...night."

* * *

_Already dead. __So kill my head_

_There's a sun in his eyes, i__t won't go away_

_Why is it I can't kill my -_

_He would never sleep. __Said I didn't mind it at all_

_Made me feel quite cheap, l__ooking back on it all_

_Then there was this kiss. __He said that he couldn't resist_

_And was I aware of what I missed?_

_That night I slept on his couch w__ith my back turned to the wall_

_Nothing assumed but, you know?_

_You know_

_In the morning we said nothing at all_

_All I could think of was this_

_He said that he couldn't resist, a__nd was I aware of what I missed?_

_-Keen on Boys, _The Radio Dept_._

* * *

L sucked on his thumb absentmindedly as his thoughts scuttled over the nightmarish incident of a few hours before. It occurred to him that he generally didn't factor in Light's age as much as perhaps he should. Light's reaction last night was evidence enough that he was indeed the kind of seventeen-year-old who fretted over braces locking together and to whom noses crashing (generally being an obstacle you wish you could hack off with a craft knife) were still very much being an issue. He was not, despite evidence to the contrary, the kind of seventeen-year-old who was rocketing towards drawing his pension and looking forward to having an allotment and a rose garden, as Light so often made out. He didn't seen quite as sorted and savvy as he perhaps would like people to believe, at least in personal matters. And yet he put on such a good show.

But why this could be considered a revelation to L was another matter entirely. Light Yagami was a contradiction in as many respects as L could count. He was still convinced that the boy was Kira. He was convinced that he was putting on a show of feigning innocence. And now, he was convinced that he was the most remarkable person he'd ever met.

Oh, shut up, L brain.

Maybe this show was aided and abetted by Light's father, Soichiro, who was visibly shocked at the idea of his only son, shock horror, actually having pornographic magazines. Perhaps he was more shocked at Light's hiding them within a law encyclopedia slip cover. Gauging from his father's reaction, Light obviously had a lot to live up to in his eyes and time for porn wasn't factored into the equation.

L turned his face towards towards the sleeping youth, cramped uncomfortably as far away as he possibly could be without being in another room entirely. Almost on cue, Light stretched like a cat in his sleep, which unfortunately unbalanced his precarious position and he woke up with a start.

"IwasawakeIdidn'tmissanything!" he blurted out, propping himself up, panic stricken.

"Good morning, Light-kun," L said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Ryuzaki," Light replied.

They sat up in bed next to each other for a few painfully drawn out moments, the bed sheet neatly stretched across their laps.

"I'll have a shower," Light said, at length.

"Ok,"

Light began to move, but suddenly considering the logistics of the shower scenario at this moment in time put the fear of God into Light. He decided against it.

"On second thoughts. I'd love a coffee," he said.

"Ok," L replied.

* * *

_On the day that your mentality_

_catches up with your biology_

_I want the one I can't have_

_and it's driving me mad_

_it's written all over my face_

- _I Want The One I Can't Have_, The Smiths

* * *

In the kitchen Light glanced at his watch and noticed that it was 5am. The rest of the task force wouldn't arrive until at least 6:30am.

"Light-kun, please sit down."

Light dropped into the chair as if shot.

"I was wondering if we could run over my file on Naomi Misora this morning?"

Run over it? Like, in a car? Oh, right.

"That'd be wonderful, Ryuzaki. If you don't mind. I know how protective you are of your files but I look forward to seeing one, just out of interest."

"To investigate how I work?"

"Yes. Not for anything sinister. It's just, y'know, because I want to be a detective with the NPA one day and you're 'the greatest detective' after all!" he laughed awkwardly while wishing that someone would put him out of his misery.

"Good. I write a lot of case notes out short-hand. Bad habit. Watari has, however scanned the files into the computer so I can either transfer the notes to your computer or you can view the originals if you'd prefer?" L said, sipping his sugar-laden coffee slowly.

Light suddenly had the feeling that he'd been thrown into a very important job interview. He imagined that it was a mix between an interview at McDonalds and an interrogation at the hands of the Spanish Inquisition.

"I don't mind really," he said, talking a gulp of coffee which he narrowly avoided pouring down himself instead.

"You can discuss it with Watari," L said, standing and reaching over to pluck a strawberry off a still partially frozen cheesecake fresh from the freezer. Desperate times call for desperate measures – hence frozen cheesecake.

"Ok," Light said, taking another desperate gulp of coffee. His eyes roamed the lines of the linoleum floor tiles.

"Light-kun?"

"Yes?" Light said, looking up.

And then he was kissing him. It wasn't the barest of touches from the night before, it was one of those intense, whole-hearted affairs which required full attention and co-operation. L was standing above him, leaning down. Light was still seated and in a distant part of his brain he wished would shut the fuck up, felt rather ridiculous. But then he didn't really. Light lost control of his extremities and they seemed to be pretty redundant unless they were in contact with L anyway. His forgotten cup of coffee fell mournfully from a hooked finger - the noise of broken ceramic and the spatter of coffee upon the hem of his trousers didn't matter either.

A little time later, Light and L had manoeuvred themselves and their clawing, insistent limbs back to their bedroom and collapsed on the bed. It was quite a feat while desperately clinging to each other. Somehow Light's shirt had been lost along the way, except that it was being dragged along the floor by the chain.

"Um, Light...kun?" L managed out of the corner of his mouth between kisses. Light responded by crushing his mouth to L's even more fervently.

"Just shut up and kiss me," he breathed into L's mouth.

L pulled away unexpectedly and with some difficulty, leaving Light's eyes wide and slightly hazy. His lips were numbed and superfluous now, fixed in a loose pout.

"I would and I can but I must point out that if you brushed your teeth first it would make it much more pleasant for both of us. You taste of miso soup," L stated bluntly. Light just stared at him. He was right of course. As soon as it was mentioned he noticed the furry feeling across his teeth and it irritated him immensely. Still, he was damned if he was going to do anything L told him to do. He started it anyway. Light was perfectly happy drinking his coffee. Brush his teeth for fuck's sake? That's rich coming with someone who eats sugar in such quantities that his teeth should be literally throwing themselves out of his mouth in despair. Here be Dragons and absolutely no flossing.

"Fine. Where's my shirt?" Light said, feigning disinterest. He pushed L away and reached for a dressing gown on the chair.

"Your shirt? Lost at sea. We shall mourn its passing. T'was a nice shirt," L replied, gazing at the rag of of shirt being dragged behind Light.

"Why did you do that anyway?" Light asked petulantly, trying to force tense arms into a dressing gown and hoping to God that it wasn't inside out because his vision was vibrating slightly and he couldn't really take in such details.

"I wanted to try something."

"Try something?" Light asked, shocked and disgruntled, "Pffff, I should have known."

"That was not the effect I anticipated, Light-kun. This level of surliness, even for you is unprecedented."

"Well, at least it'll give you something to write in those damn case files of yours," Light spat. Then, mimicking L's monotonous drawl while removing his trousers, "Suspect easily offended. May point at superiority complex. Chances of being Kira increased by 0.79%."

"I'd say more like 1.2% actually," L corrected.

"Oh shut up, L. Just shut up." Light's voice was heavy with hostility. He felt a delayed ache of his hip from when, on their blind, meandering trip from the kitchen to the bed, L had steered him into the door frame.

Light had genuinely expected a retort from the detective and when nothing followed but an uneasy silence, he felt himself grow more incensed. He needed to be on his own for a while. To not feel eyes boring a hole into his back. On reflection, he and L had literally been bonded together by a chain for a long time now and, in very recent history, attached to each other's lips on and off for the past half an hour. He needed a serious break.

"I'm going for a shower. Unlock the cuffs," he said, tying the belt of his robe with an adamant tug.

"You know I can't do that Light-kun."

Light spun around to face L who was now sitting cross legged on the bed looking like Buddha fallen on hard times.

"Ryuzaki, what do you think I'm going to do in there? There's only so much you can do in a bathroom with no windows or air vents and no way of communication. I have nothing!" he stated dramatically throwing his arms to his side."You have taken everything from me. Even if I _was_ Kira, do you really believe that I could kill criminals with nothing more than soap and a loofah? I want a shower and I want these cuffs off and I don't want you or anyone else watching me on any cameras. I just want to be left alone. Do you understand or is all that", he drew a disturbingly accurate outline of L's hair in the air, "blocking any information to your brain?"

"Light-kun is quite demanding," L observed.

"Light-kun knows his rights. Right now you have no proof. Nothing. Everyone knows that. In fact, everything points _away_ from me being Kira. It's simply your stubbornness and inability to believe that you were wrong which has me chained to you like some animal. I mean, I don't have to remind you how illegal this is, do I? You have my consent right now. I want to prove my innocence to you and if this is the only way to do it then, fine, but I'll only take so much. Take off the cuffs," he stated emphatically, holding his wrist out towards L as if there was absolutely no alternative. L stared at the extended wrist for a moment.

"Is this just because I suggested that you should brush your teeth?" he asked.

"No, but it didn't endear you to me."

"I'd be surprised if anything was ever dear to Light-kun," L muttered.

"You really know nothing about me, Ryuzaki. Anyway, stop with the avoidance tactics and unlock the cuffs." He stomped forwards, practically pushing his wrist further towards L's face. L glanced between the appendage and Light's eyes. The look on his own face was unmoved and untroubled.

"Did you think that sexual foreplay would grant you certain privileges?" L said blankly.

"Right. WATARI-SAN!" Light shouted and suddenly marched towards to door, the suddenness taking L by surprise and dragging him off the bed and trailing behind him.

Light strode along corridors, calling for Watari as he went. It was pointless to ask L where the old gentlemen was because no one ever knew, and besides, L wouldn't tell him anyway since it clearly wouldn't be in his best interests. Watari just seemed to materialise like Bela Lugosi in a 30s horror film. He was presumedly in some limbo until called and only L had the means to do that. Light now walked emphatically towards L's main computer, still dragging the detective behind him who had failed to right himself in the distance between the rooms.

Stalking through the doors and into the HQ office went Light, wild haired and wearing a towelling dressing gown, closely dragging behind a bemused L. Matsuda and Soichiro had already arrived and Matsuda had already laid out the staple doughnut selection in the middle of the table and was eating something from a carton. A drip of egg dropped from Matsuda's chopsticks, missing his open mouth entirely and landing on an unfortunate spot right in the middle of his tie. Light had, by now, reached L's desk and pushed the empty plates, cups and sugar bowls away from the keyboard. After clearing the area - an unnecessary but telling gesture in itself, he started tapping into the computer. The beloved L screensaver popped up automatically. L had finally managed to stand and stared for a moment, unsure of what action to take. When he saw that Light had, with apparent ease, managed to hack his password, he lurched forwards.

"Light-kun, I warn you..."

"Watari-san, this is Yagami Light. Please bring the keys to our handcuffs. Watari-san?" Light spoke into the microphone on the desk.

"Light-kun must realise that in the time he's taken for this little strop, he could have had his shower by now."

"Light, what's wrong?" asked Sochiro.

"Nothing, Dad. Don't worry about it," he replied, his tone of voice reverting with remarkable ease to that of the dutiful and unflustered son. "Watari-san!" He called back in into the microphone.

The doors of the headquarters slid open and Watari entered. Light paced over to meet him.

"Yes, sir?" Watari said, his demeanour the epitome of Zen enlightenment

"Watari-san, please could you unlock this? I would like to shower," Light said as calmly as possible, holding out his shackled arm. Watari took in the request and automatically looked behind Light, towards L. Light felt a growing ball of fury within his chest. "Don't look at him! He's nothing to do with this," Light shouted, his face feeling stretched at the edges.

"I'm sorry, young sir but I cannot remove the cuffs without the consent of Ryuzaki." The old man _did_ look deeply apologetic, bowing deeply as he delivered the blow.

"His consent?" The rage inside was so close to the surface that he could feel his hand shake with boiling blood. He spun around and promptly pushed his fist into Ryuzaki's face, the force of which sent him plummeting to the floor. "You _bastard,_" Light said, simply, breathing heavily. Watching Ryuzaki gingerly touch his nose and cheek whilst righting himself into a characteristic crouching position. Empty black eyes turned towards him as his hand started to rub the offended cheek which was already coloured with the coming bruise.

"Light-kun, I believe I have been very patient with you. You understood the requirements of your release. It was discussed, in length, and you agreed with the restrictions. Observation is necessary at all times and you cannot suddenly throw a tantrum and demand your release, no matter what for or for however short a time."

"Release? This is no release! I might as well be back in that cell strapped up like some lunatic. At least then I didn't have to look at your ridiculous face every second of the day."

"Light!" Sochiro cut through. "That is enough."

On hearing his father's voice Light suddenly had a view of what this must look like. He wasn't his calm and collected self, he was acting like a madman. Perhaps he was a madman. In a towelling dressing gown.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I..." he trailed off. Defeated and humiliated, Light relented. "I apologise for my behaviour, Ryuzaki," he said softly and held his hand out towards the crumpled figure below. But, instead of the gracious acceptance he expected, Ryuzaki grabbed the proffered arm and yanked Light to the ground, his face impacting hard into the floor. Blood instantly streamed from his nose and his eyes filled with tears as if the whole top section of his head was about to explode.

"And now, I think we're even," Ryuzaki stated cheerfully, rising upright and proceeded to manhandle Light to his feet who was too stunned to react.

"Thank you gentlemen. Sorry to have interrupted you. Please, carry on. Meeting in an hour, yes? Oh, and Watari, could you please bring some ice packs and definitely tea and some of those doughnuts to my room? Would you like some tea and doughnuts Light-kun? Hmmm? I'll take that as a yes as I'm sure you won't mind me having them if you decide against them. Yes, tea and doughnuts for two please, Watari. Thank you. We'll be back shortly."

And with that, holding Light up under his arms as Light himself was occupied with stemming the flow of blood from his nose, the two bruised looking figures returned to their room.


	3. I dreamt about you last night

**Chapter 3**

**I Dreamt About You Last Night, and I Fell Out of Bed Twice**

_Reel around the fountain_

_slap me on the patio_

_I'll take it now_

_Fifteen minutes with you_

_well, I wouldn't say no_

_oh people said_

_that you were virtually dead_

_and they were so wrong!  
_

Reel Around The Fountain ~ The Smiths

* * *

The petite girl admired herself in the mirror, turning from side to side and inspected her rear with concern over a delicate shoulder.

She couldn't play music or have a TV. There wasn't any form of entertainment really, but then she'd grown accustomed to life without those things lately. She was allowed magazines though they were highly edited, with any news and gossip sections removed so mostly she was left with adverts and fashion pages. It was fine.

She'd been trying to teach herself chess lately because Light had been on the chess team when he was at school. She'd requested a book on the subject of chess which had been approved. A chess set and book, wrapped in brown paper arrived the next day which was nice because she hadn't thought to ask for a chess set as well. She woke up in the morning and there the parcel was on the coffee table in the living room. She unpacked it, kneeling on the floor like a child at Christmas and placed the pieces on the checkered board. She began memorising the names, what they could do, what they couldn't do. She liked the queen best; she could move anywhere and she was ruthless in protecting her king.

In those long, long hours alone in that dove grey cell while she replayed every moment she'd spent with Light over and over in her mind. So few times on reflection. She'd sworn that, if and when she was released from this hell, she would put her all into improving herself for him. The looks part she had covered. She'd lost a little weight over the last few months but then that was never a bad thing.

"You can never be too rich or too thin. Remember that, Misa!" was her manager's life rule.

So, now she was working on her mind. She tried to think of all the things Light liked to do. She forced herself to remember his room. That time she visited his house, not bring able to remember what they spoke about, she had taken a moment to scan his room and belongings. She imagined that these rooms she was confined to was the home she and Light shared and she wanted to keep it nice for him because he liked things to be clean. He was always clean and his room was spotless. She remembered because when she walked in she felt like she was spoiling it.

Things were easier and time passed more quickly when she lived in a constant state of waiting for Light to return from work. He wanted to work for the NPA didn't he? He wanted to catch all those bad people, all those murderers, and put them in jail. So that's what he did in her daydream. And one day he _would_ come home to his clean house and his pretty Misa Misa and he would tell her what he'd done that day and she would make him dinner and then they would play chess and he would read to her from one of his books and she would understand and make him happy and then they'd go to bed and make a baby and maybe it would be a little boy who would look just like Light and he would always be safe and nothing bad would ever happen to him.

But until then she would better herself. So she was learning how to play chess because Light never visited for dates. He was too busy and when he did visit, he always brought Ryuzaki.

It was difficult without someone to play with.

* * *

It was lucky for Light that both he and L seemed to have the best poker faces in the business. A stranger looking on wouldn't even have guessed that they even knew each other. L wasn't responsible for reminding Light of what had happened, he did that very well himself. He caught himself several times absentmindedly brushing his fingertips across his lips, which still felt a little bruised although not from the slam dunk L had pulled on him a few hours earlier. Speaking of which, his hand grazed against his slightly swollen nose. He pinched tentatively at the bridge, still not completely convinced that it wasn't broken despite L's assurances. Such an eventful day, and not even noon. He still hadn't had a shower though. He also found himself distracted by L's tapered fingers which either resting lightly upon a teacup or delicately dropped sugar cubes in his coffee. Light had begun, although he wasn't sure when exactly, appreciating that there was a strange kind of elegance about L's movements.

He was also starting to believe that therapy might be a good idea.

It seemed best that direct communication was kept to a minimum while working and while Light still had an urge to push L's face into a computer screen.

"By the way, Amane-san has been installed into a larger suite on floor 17 until further notice," L declared without warning. "Considering her state of mind of late, it seems unnecessary to have her confined to such small rooms."

Light felt a rush of guilt as he realised that he barely spared Misa a thought since L's breaker plot which led them to believe that they were about to be executed by Light's own father. Both had been so shaken afterwards and with no time to take in what had happened before Misa had been led away. Light had rarely seen her since. When he did it was usually upon L's stipulation due to 'Amane-san's intense whining'. For all he knew L could have had her locked in one room, perhaps still a cell? A padded cell monitored 24/7 while he was sleeping on 600 count Egyptian cotton sheets and doing inappropriate things with L at the kitchen table.

"That's wonderful news, Ryuzaki! Isn't it Chief?" Matsuda exclaimed.

"It is?" L questioned.

L's tone mocked the idea that his views should be up for discussion. It wasn't something that he was used to since usually he decided upon the most reasonable response and there was an end to it. There was a chance that if given the correct surroundings and more access to Light, Misa might unintentionally reveal something something he could use to prove that they were Kira. The key, he had decided, was Light himself. Misa was without doubt the weaker partner - the submissive, while Light was the ace up his sleeve. Thinking of Light as a playing card, that is, L's ability to think rationally was increasingly difficult of late. Misa, despite her sudden change of behaviour 3 days into her incarceration (her obliviousness and desperate pleas going some way to putting L in danger of having a mini mutiny on his hands) had been constant in one respect – her devotion to Light.

Since returning from the faux-execution plot and moved to the new HQ, L had her removed from her cell to a spartan and dismal single room while he had a larger set of rooms made ready for her. 'Cell' to 'room' sounded like an upgrade but in truth her situation improved only by no longer being blindfolded and strapped to a medieval torture device. This room in many ways was worse than the cell because it was so dull and no one spoke to her anymore through the intercoms. She also constantly complained about it being cold.

She'd been brought to see Light (and L by default) a few times but Light always looked pained and eager to leave. She bored and irritated Light and she knew it. Perhaps these thoughts made the room seem colder than it was. It was like a tomb with a small window which mocked her with promises of life. L almost felt sorry for her.

Watari had been monitoring her, making edited tapes and transcripts of her mumblings which L would scan through while Light slept. They had, alas, revealed nothing. Her ramblings were mostly inane whining, but she had grown increasingly despondent and paranoid, questioning the ether with 'Have they killed Light? No, no I would know if they had. I would feel it,' and other such nonsense. With her emotions peaked, L judged it likely that she may unintentionally betray herself, and in doing so, provide L with the irrefutable evidence that Light was Kira. The first Kira anyway. It seemed like Kiras were popping up all over the place nowadays.

The murders had stopped abruptly with Light and Misa's incarceration. Their guilt was hard to deny, yet they did deny it. Then again, L didn't really want them, or at least, didn't want Light to admit his guilt. It would be too easy and it would be … disappointing. When the murders started again, albeit briefly, they were victims that Kira would certainly had targeted and they'd died by heart attack. There were a few anomalies; business people and ordinary people with clean records which suggested to L that it was not the work of Kira. Those deaths looked vindictive.

Then they too stopped.

L had to uncover the proof, otherwise what was the point of all this?

"Have you informed her, Ryuzaki?" Light asked coldly, continuing to stare at his computer monitor, suspicions alerted. "About the surveillance and the fact that her human rights are being compromised?"

"I don't consider that a necessity, Light-kun. The constitution and criminal code need not apply at this level, particularly since Amane-san is under suspicion of genocide. Perhaps we could discuss the code of criminal procedure at another time. The fact is that Amane-san's guilt is still under conjecture, although, as I have admitted, the probability is apparently considerably less than before and so, as a reflection of this, she is being given a more comfortable living arrangements. However, the evidence still remains and I am not yet convinced that she could be rehabilitated under probationary status. I am intrigued that you show such concern for the possibility that her rights are compromised but have not complained about your own for some time."

Light resisted physically squirming in the chair. "I have been given the opportunity to actively prove my innocence. Misa has not. You're playing God with her."

"Interesting choice of words, Light-kun," L replied, intently boring into Light's. Yes, his toffee coloured eyes against his own black searchlights.

"You can't honestly believe that she has the ability of Kira. This situation is ridiculous. Your suspicions about her are unfounded," Light said, crossing his arms resolutely.

"You're underestimating her, Light-kun. I believe that Amane-san has hidden depths, albeit extremely well concealed by the shallows," L quipped, plucking a rouge cherry from his plate of black forest gateaux. "I do not wish to argue right now, Light-kun. I am rather busy. Please understand that Amane-san being confined to that suite under observation is the best course of action. I thought that perhaps you would approve of her much improved situation. I think that we have ascertained that she is, at the moment, not a danger. In addition, she will have access to you, Light. You can see each other once a day if necessary, accompanied by me of course. You really must see her at least once every two days."

L chose his wording carefully, he didn't want to _stipulate_ that Light see Misa. He instead tried to play upon Light's feelings of guilt towards the girl.

"So she'll have access to the whole building? You know that you won't be able to stop her from staying in here all day," Light pointed out.

"I considered that. Of course we cannot allow her to interrupt our progress with the investigation. So, when she is not in the company of one or more members of the team, she will be confined to her room by means of a restraint which would not impede her ability to do whatever she wants to do, within the confines of the apartment, which, I reiterate, is very spacious."

"What kind of restraint?" Light asked, feeling as if he'd uncovered the hidden sting in the tail.

"Similar to yours, Light-kun."

"You can't be serious. You're going to chain her up in her room?"

"You embellish the phrasing somewhat, Light-kun. The shackles will be connected by a long chain to the floor in her main living space."

"Ryuzaki, that is unacceptable," Soichiro stated, having overheard the whole conversation.

Yagami-san, I believe that this is both a necessary and fair precaution," L said as if his view was the divine word.

"Ryuzaki, can I speak to you outside?" Light said, standing up.

L looked taken aback, as did the rest of the team but without a word, gingerly followed Light outside. Once there, with the relative safety of a sturdy door between themselves and the rest of the investigation team, L leaned against the corridor wall and braced himself for an onslaught. Once the automatic doors had fully shut. Light turned to L.

"You're honestly telling me that you think that it's reasonable to chain Misa to the floor?"

"She has the ability to walk around. None of her basic human rights are impeded," L repeated like brainwashed drone.

"None of her human rights are impeded? She's chained to a floor! She'll be unable to leave the apartment. You'll be monitoring her by cameras 24/7. She'll have no privacy."

"I said that none of her _basic_ human rights are impeded. She can, indeed, walk around and access to food, water, sanitation and a great many other things. In addition, Miss Amane is the type of woman, and I think you'll agree, who very much values the presence of cameras at all times. It's a very nice apartment anyway." L rattled off the facts like a bored newsreader.

"Yes, because your ideas are marvellous. Like that time when you had my father pretend that he was going to shoot me. That was fun," Light said, and began striding away down the corridor. Where he was going, he wasn't sure, but he had an overwhelming urge to expend energy and emotion, or else punch L square in the face. Again. As a result, L was forced to try and catch up before the chain pulled him along like a poodle.

"It was necessary to justify your release from your cells," he said breathlessly.

"Oh is that what you call it? I'd call that semantics. I haven't really been released; I'm chained to you, which, by the way, is just plain weird but _especially_ so since you think that I'm a killer. Now Misa is chained to the floor upstairs which is, again, weird. You'd probably have her chained to your other wrist you could. In fact, why don't you? Let's form a human chain!"

"I'm afraid that even my devotion to the case only extends so far."

Light stopped so abruptly L narrowly avoided colliding with him. Confronting L, crossed arms, looking as incensed as he felt, Light stared brutally into those impassive eyes.

"It didn't prove anything to you, did it? You've decided that we're guilty, even if all the evidence in the world points elsewhere. Ha, you really are a heartless bastard, you just can't see it. You think you're so fucking righteous. It's sickening."

Sure that his words were practically bouncing off L, Light felt his face heating up with repressed anger. That familiar irritation which only came in conjunction with the scraggly, lanky man beside him. Maybe it was the way L's expression was that of a patient who had just woken from a long and not very refreshing coma. The monotonous voice. The "I am justice" crap. Yeah, that wasn't so convincing since he'd seen "Justice" with his trousers around his ankles whilst looking for a t-shirt.

But Justice actually looked – what was it? Hurt? Light wished that there was a manual which came with L. Unused to seeing any other than an inscrutable expression or occasional flashes of irritation due to Matsuda, L's current downcast countenance took Light by surprise. L could, on occasion, look like the loneliest person Light had ever seen. He had an aura of the kicked puppy about him. Maybe this wasn't the best time for Light to vent his spleen.

"You really are the most annoying creature. I think I'm...I'm allergic to you. Look - hives!" he said, half jokingly. In trying to lighten the mood he pointed to the pink 'L stress' blotches on his hands.

"You really have gone the most lovely shade," L replied, lips curling upwards at the corners. Light had to physically restrain himself from returning the half-smile. Instead he pulled defensively at the cuffs of his shirt.

"Stop it, just stop it."

"Stop what, Light-kun?" L inquired, tilting his head to one side.

"That.. THAT!." Light replied, indicating towards the space between them, his voice perhaps a little too high pitched to come off as commanding. He coughed lightly and lowered his tone. "It's inappropriate."

"I really don't know what you're talking about. You seem a bit frantic. Are you ill again, Light-kun? Should I call your father?"

"I'm not ill. You're stupid."

"I have proof that that statement is incorrect. I have papers and certificates and -"

"I need to lie down," Light murmured, delicately pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, gauging the swelling.

"Perhaps that would be best. I'll come with you. Obviously."

"No. Alone," Light said. Though dramatic and completely serious, the squeaky tone to the outburst made him sound like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

"But Light-kun," L said,, jangling the cuff on his limp wrist.

"Oh. Shit."

"Thwarted again, Light-kun. It must be becoming irritating for you now. Hence the splotches," L said, pseudo-sympathetically, gesturing lazily at Light's neck and the growing rose stain blooming across what could be seen of his chest.

"I thought that you... I thought that something had changed."

"Light-kun, if you're referring to this morning, I'm surprised. You didn't honestly think that a kiss could eliminate you from investigation?"

Light opened his mouth as if to say something, but then, defeated, he visibly sank a couple of inches, his line of sight dropping to the floor. "Ryuzaki?" he asked the floor.

"Yes, Light-kun?" L said. Light raised his eyes again to meet L's.

"Why is this happening?"

He looked so childlike. His eyes were orbs of utter confusion. Somewhere along the line, his perfect life had turned into some premise of a bad art house film and he still felt dreadfully churned up inside. Whatever he said or did was questioned. Everything was used to add and subtract to the whimsical percentages of a man who had chained himself to him and who he had recently had an encounter with over a nightmare and a cup of coffee. Light pondered whether he was suffering from some kind of psychological break. Something more likely would be Stockholm Syndrome. Why else would have such confusing feelings for a man who had ruined his life and was keeping him prisoner?

His face was suddenly drawn and empty. L's eyes scanned Light weary face like a book, as if all his emotions and thoughts were there to be read within that perfect symmetry. Lightly, L cupped Light's jaw in his hand, his spidery fingers settling near an almond eye.

"I'm going to kiss you Light-kun. I hope you don't mind."

Light's eyes widened. "You wha -"

L's mouth fit perfectly over his own before he could comprehend what was happening, because whatever this was it was definitely not good. This was not good. Really. Light's nose was throbbing in annoyance of L's butting up against it like that. L tilted his head slightly and slipped his tongue into Light's mouth, running along the ridge of his teeth and coaxing Light's own tongue to stop being a spectator. Almost by reflex, as if Light's brain had no say in the matter, or was taking too long to catch up in any case, Light began kissing him back with purpose.

No matter, Light thought, although it really did matter. If he could only string this out for as long as possible then they could avoid the awkwardness that would follow again. He leaned into the kiss and put one arm around L's back, settling on a sharply defined shoulder blade and closing the gap between their chests. L straightened lifted his head, forcing Light to tilt backwards slightly to avoid breaking the kiss. A warm breath glanced over Light's top lip, who, despite himself, gave a pleased little sigh into the other man's mouth as their lips crushed together. L braced Light's shoulder, a hand gently holding the nape of his neck while Light's fingers had, as if drawn by some magnetic force, hooked through the redundant belt loop on L's jeans. He was unsure whether it was for support or because he was at a loss with what to do with his hands, which felt strangely flipper-like since many basic motor functions were currently out of office.

"Ryuzaki, V is on the line for you. Urgent message," Watari's calming tones soothed through the intercom. Immediately, as if a cannon had gone off between them, Light and L sprung apart. Light's mouth was burning. Now for the awkwardness again.

L's eyes literally spun in their sockets looking at everything in the room apart from Light. "That was unprofessional," he said.

"Message. Urgent," Light reminded him.

"Oh, yes." L cheerfully and, grateful for the diversion, walked to the door. Light followed him, glimpsing a sight of his own ruffled reflection in the glass and quickly attempted to straighten himself out.

He followed L back into the room and was so preoccupied with adjusting his hair that he failed to realise that he was standing elbow to elbow to L. Touching. He took a quick sidestep.

L paused, glanced at the gothic type "V on the white main screen for a moment and shuffled towards his chair.

V? Light wondered as he sat down. What is it with the initials? Don't people have real names anymore?

"Put her through, Watari," L ordered, assuming his 'crouching tiger at a tea party' stance. "V, this is L."

"Hello, darling! How good to hear your strangely computerised voice."

L sighed and tapped a switch on the mic base, presumedly to remove the voice filter. "You have news for me?"

"Oh, that's much better. And yes, there's something you might be interested in. Can't give details over the line like this."

"The line is secure."

"I'm sure it is but you never know who's listening," she said cryptically.

Of course, anyone whose name is a single letter is sure to be distrustful and make absolutely no sense, Light thought.

"I assure you tha – " L started, visibly irritated.

"As I said, no details. Call me old-fashioned but I'd rather discuss it face to face. I can call 'round sometime this week though. Maybe Thursday? I have a bit of clearing up to finish here first."

"Very well. I'll have Watari arrange your flight and pick up from the airport."

"And how are you?" And now for the pleasantries.

"Um...fine. Thank you."

"Good, good. All's fine here too. Did Watari tell you?"

"Yes, I heard. Thank you for your assistance in that matter."

"You're welcome. I mean, don't go overboard or anything. No ticker tape parade. It really was nothing."

"I presume that you want a pat on the head."

"Not at all."

"In the form of a bonus cheque?"

"It doesn't have to be a cheque. It could be, say, a favour."

L, inclined his eyes towards where Light was sitting, pretending to be be disinterested. "Well, V, I shall see you on Thursday."

"See you on Thursday. Oh, and L?"

"Yes, V?"

"I found Misora."

Both Light and L straightened in their chairs at that little revelation.

L's mouth opened before he realised that he would only be questioning a dead line.

* * *

**A/N **

I admit that V is an OC but is most definitely not a Mary Sue. I cannot emphasise that enough. She won't be in it much but is quite important.

Amid my general hackery of the DN canon, I've changed L's handling of Misa's confinement somewhat, as I'm sure you've noticed. This is for the greater good. Plot scenarios, repercussions, an excuse for Light and L to argue about it and whatnot. Rem isn't happy but why can't she kill L? Ugh!


	4. Pretty Girls Make Graves

**Chapter 4**

**Pretty Girls Make Graves**

_And Sorrow's native son_

_He will not smile for anyone_

_And pretty girls make graves_

_End of the pier, end of the bay_

_You tug my arm, and say : "Give in to lust,_

_Give up to lust, oh heaven knows we'll_

_Soon be dust ... "_

_Oh, I'm not the man you think I am_

_I'm not the man you think I am_

~The Smiths

* * *

"Have you heard of 'angry sex', Light-kun."

Light's eyes rose from his work and with great weariness, turned towards L, who was currently cramming bunny head shaped biscuits into his mouth, taking the time to bit off both ears brutally before putting them out of their misery.

"You shouldn't be looking on sites like that right now Ryuzaki. We're supposed to be working on the case," Light replied inwardly cringing at his fail-safe 'working on the case' line even though the case had, for all intents and purposes, run cold and all they could do was review, review, review, and wait for the mysterious V to arrive with her bag of Misora tricks.

"Ah, but it is relevant to the case, Light-kun. You see, Misa Amane's last project is a film which is going to be marketed abroad as 'Angry Sex.'"

"This is relevant to the case how?"

"I'm considering releasing Misa. She has been cast in a Nishinaka film, which I'm sure will be the film equivalent of Shakespeare for the modern age. I would hate for her career to be adversely affected when we could easily keep her under observation outside of the headquarters."

Light stared as L violently put another bunny biscuit to death.

"You're worried about Misa's career but not about mine? I'm supposed to be at university right now, Ryuzaki."

"Yes, just think, right this minute you're missing a lecture on the basics of criminal psychology and instead you're here with me," L said, dropping white cubes into his tea until his cup genuinely did runneth over.

"Yes. A sobering thought indeed," Light replied mournfully.

"This film does sound rather promising, look!" L said. Immediately, over Light's carefully drawn up spreadsheets, a garish looking teaser poster popped up in a browser window. Of course Light was aware that the computers were networked, but what L was really showing him was further proof that he was watching him all the time. Reminding him that every word he typed into the computer was monitored, every hesitation or corrected mistake analysed.

"Would you honestly think to look at her that she could have such good balance while swinging from a chandelier?" L asked, bending almost upside down to view the feat from another angle.

"Great. Well, I'm the middle of something right now, so... " Light said, closing the browser window with a flourish.

"Light-kun really should show more of an interest in his girlfriend's career," L said, sinking back into his chair to suck the biscuity brains from his next victim.

Light sighed loudly. "I've no idea why you're talking about her films. Since she's locked upstairs it'd be very difficult for her to film anything."

"Ah, Light-kun, unfortunately, the producers of this film want her to do some post-production. I have tried negotiating, even offering to pay very much over the odds to buy the rights of the film and to shelve the project, but this combined with the Misa Misa Fanclub courting undue media attention regarding her whereabouts..."

L hesitated until a new browser window popped up on Light's screen to illustrate his point. Interrupting Light, mid-type, a 'Where's Misa-Misa?' column from a terrifyingly teenage-looking magazine assaulted his screen. It was titled by a manipulated photo of Misa wearing a red and white scarf and hat.

"This has led me to consider letting her complete the film and to be seen a few times publicly to calm the attention," L said.

"You're letting her go free?"

Of course not, Light-kun. She will be supervised on public occasions by Wedy, who will pose as her bodyguard, and in the film studios by Matsuda, who will pose as her agent. The situation would be very low risk and may even be enlightening."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"To gauge your opinion. Do you think that this is a prudent decision?"

"You're asking me?"

"Clearly."

"Well, since I don't believe that she should be incarcerated at all, of course I'm going to agree."

"Good. You tell her then."

* * *

Thursday arrived and so did a woman, flanked by Watari and Matsuda. She was dressed in black, as if it was an unspoken rule that all agents must be dressed in that colour to identify each other and perhaps emphasise their supposed badassishness. If they all got together it'd look like a funeral so it was just as well that they were mostly lone wolves. This wolf was in her thirties by the look of it. A blonde with a long bob and thick fringe like a helmet. She kept her eyes covered with wrap around shades even though the headquarters were dimly lit. Arrogance. Light was both slightly impressed and irritated but didn't let on to feeling either.

She sauntered up to L, smiling. Everyone seemed slightly surprised that anyone should smile at L, and by her over-familiarity when she grabbed him by the shoulders and pecked him on each cheek.

"You've spent too much time in Europe," L said in English and with an English accent. He felt unnerved by the British invasion and all it entailed.

"Oh, you love it," she sing-songed. Then turning her attention to Light and pointedly glancing at the chain that tied him to L. Apparently amused, she introduced herself to Light in Japanese - "If we wait for L to develop social graces then we'll never get anywhere. I'm V," she said bowing slightly.

Light held out a hand to greet her in the Western style, "I'm Yagami Light."

"Ah, of course. That explains the ties that bind," she said gesturing to the chain.

Ignoring that, L proceeded to introduce her to the rest of the team, who all looked more than a little taken aback. "Gentlemen, this is V, one of my agents."

"Kuuergh...not strictly true. I'm freelance actually. I help L out of the kindness of my heart. I'm most definitely not his," V corrected.

"Right, V is a freelance agent who helps me out of the kindness of her heart and for vast amounts of money. So, to business?" L asked.

"Coffee first. You get nothing before I see a cafetière."

"Watari," was his way of requesting that coffee be brought. Watari obediently disappeared and L gestured to the large table in the middle of the room.

"You want to discuss it here?" she questioned, glancing at the other people.

"Yes. I would only have to inform the team of it afterwards so it saves energy and tiresome repetition. They can be trusted," L said, climbing into a chair.

Light brought his notebook, he wasn't sure why. He wished that he had one of those clipboard things which always seem like a good idea to have around but ultimately never find an opportunity to use.

Watari brought in a tray and set it up on a table to the right of V. "W," she muttered simply in acknowledgement, her head downcast. She held out a plate of battenburg for L which he quickly took and stuffed into his open mouth. "This was obviously for you," she said. "He loves you madly doesn't he? It's all fun and games now, but just wait for the diabetes to kick in." L didn't answer, he just stared at her while he chewed, his cheeks stuffed and puffy like a hamster's. "Fine. Where do want me to start?" V relented.

"Misora."

"Drowned in Kurobe reservoir. Weighted down from the waist. No note of any kind. No information on her phone, at her hotel here in Japan or her residence in the U.S. Eventually, I got a tip-off from a report about a missing rowboat which was found stranded on the reservoir around the time of her disappearance. The authorities suspected a suicide since apparently many bodies pop up there but they were obviously not concerned enough to do a search since it's a costly business. Plus, it could easily have been some kids fooling about and leaving the boat. _Swallows and Amazons_ or something like that. I had footage from the nearest station studied from her last reported sighting and I thought we had a match. Well, enough of a match to risk following up. I had the area dredged where the boat was found and, two days later, my boys found her."

"Autopsy report?"

"Water in the lungs which matched the water in the reservoir. Cause of death drowning. No sign of foul play and ruled a suicide. I had the parents informed and her body is being sent to them now. It's being kept out of the news so it's very, very low key. I thought you'd prefer it that way."

"Indeed. Many thanks." L dropped a fistful of sugar cubes into his teacup. Everyone watched as the white crystals soaked up the coffee and disintegrated into a brown sludge.

"Would you like some coffee with your sugar?" V asked. L peered at her over the rim of his cup with owlish eyes. "So, what are you thinking, oh mighty oracle?" V continued.

"Probably the same as you. We know that Kira can determine the means of death, suicide included. Ordinarily her body would not have been found. Using, I presume, treated metal weights and chains would suggest that she would either never be found or at least not for a substantial period, by which time the body would have decomposed making identification difficult if not impossible. It could be a straightforward murder but it is unlikely in this case." He broke off to have a sip of deathly saccharine coffee, the pause adding some quite unnecessary dramatic effect. Light sighed. L glanced at him briefly. "So, everything points to suicide."

"Yes, considering that her fiancé had just copped it. Still, everyone I've spoken to insists that suicide just wasn't her style. I mean, as someone in roughly the same line of work, I can't imagine giving up so easily. You'd expect her to try and bring Kira down. This Kira really _is_ something if they can enforce suicide."

"You're impressed."

"Like you're not? I'm not going to sign up for his newsletter though, so don't worry. I'm just impressed as one vigilante can be of another, even if they are psychotic."

Matsuda gasped and Aizawa gave out a disgusted snort. What did they expect? L thought and he smiled. V was aware that L suspected Light of being Kira and here she was directly insulting him while only a few feet away. He couldn't resist another sly glance in Light's direction. As he thought, there was no visible sign of being in the least offended. He would keep this pretence up as long as he could.

"She had no identification on her," V continued. "The autopsy report estimates time of death was around December to March - hard to be more specific because of the cold water. Our last sighting of her was the 1st of January and that corroborates the train station footage date. It seems like she left her hotel in the morning, hung around Tokyo for a few hours, and then made a direct route to Kurobe, which would have taken just over 3 hours. There are no reports that suggest that she stayed in the area so the obvious conclusion is that she simply got on with it then or left it until the next day. It looks like she was trying to disappear completely and leave no trace. Anyway, here's the file we have so far on disc. Encoded of course, I'll let you work it out for kicks," she smiled mischievously.

L took the disc between two fingers, inspected it briefly before tossing it towards Light, who, with nothing more than a slightly disgruntled glance, proceeded to fire up the disc in his laptop and work on the encryption. "Keep me informed of any further findings. Now, what else?"

"You tell me. Watari told me that you had a job for me."

"Really?" L said with some surprise.

"Ryuzaki, I thought that V would be most useful in field work if certain situations arose," Watari explained.

"You forget, Watari, I already have Wedy and Aiber."

"Wedy and Aiber? Come on, you're insulting me," V said, forced back into her chair in horror.

"They are most competent," L said. He made a sudden lunge across the table for a stray foil wrapped chocolate drop, dragging Light with him.

"Depends upon your definition of competent," V revealed ice blue eyes as removed her dark glasses. "Criminals held to ransom do not inspire confidence. Sure she can throw up a few mics and rock the PVC catsuits and he … well, I'm not really sure what he does, but you could say that neither of them could shoot their way out of a paper bag."

"You _could_ say that but it would wholly inaccurate. _I_ could say that your assessment is quite unfair. In any case, why do you think that firearm proficiency is required in this case?"

"Ahem, Ryuzaki, firearms are illegal in this countr – " Aizawa started holding up a finger as he did so.

"I'm well aware of that Aizawa-san," L interrupted, his eyes never breaking from V's. "Sounds like you want the job," he said to her.

"I didn't say that. I just don't like the inference that Wedy, Aiber, and I are of the same calibre. I don't even know what the 'job' entails, plus, my diary is pretty well booked. It'd have to be worth disappointing some clients."

"Quite cocky in your old age. Ever since you went freelance," L tutted, drawing one leg up onto the chair.

"If you don't know your own worth then who will?" V said with a shrug of leather jacketed shoulders.

"I do happen to have a situation which has arisen in which you could be quite useful."

"Yes?"

"A suspect of the Kira case who I have incarcerated here at this moment needs some public exposure to ease concern over her whereabouts."

"She's famous then?"

"Misa Amane, known as Misa-Misa. She's a model and actress. You would be required to accompany her to an award ceremony and a photo shoot."

"Sounds impossibly dull. Sounds a lot like 'You go and make sure some vacuous bimbo, who might be a murderer, has a nice time at some parties while I stay chained to the pretty boy and wait for something to happen.'"

Ignoring that, L continued. "What are your rates now?"

"Too much," commented Watari as he removed the tray.

V smirked. "Somewhere around that figure."

"Fine. You and Watari can sort it out at your leisure. Clear your 'diary' and pass on my apologies to your disappointed clients," L said standing up.

"I'll report for duty as soon as the deposit finds its way into my account."

"You're very changed," L remarked.

"You too, " V returned. Truly, L did seem different to her. Almost happy. Or as happy as L could seem.

* * *

"So, who is she?" Light asked, unable to contain himself any longer.

"V is a freelance agent who -" L started to rattle off.

"No, I mean, you know each other well."

"Not especially. She works for me and that's more than what you need to know. Goodnight Light-kun."

"L?"

L flinched at Light calling him 'L'.

"Light-kun?"

L felt the bed sink as Light turned his whole body round to face him. Light was not surprised to find that L was apparently fixated on where the electric cable from the overhead light disappeared into the ceiling.

"I'm sorry about how I've acted lately. I just … this is difficult. Stressful. You must understand?"

"I can understand how you would find it stressful, Light-kun."

"It's not easy always being under suspicion for something you _know_ you're not responsible for and we're … well, apart from that, I have the world's greatest detective who's convinced that I'm a mass murderer and has held me in a cell for months, and now has literally chained himself to me."

"Does it make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?"

"Not so much."

"Do you want to be released and sent back home to your family and university?" I might be able to arrange that. Of course you would still be under surveillance but it would be less intrusive. If you really wish this I could try to accommodate as best as I can."

L would never suggest this. Why now? Of course, Light knew the reason immediately.

"You'd have V watch me."

"She'd probably share duties with Wedy or I may bring in another agent or two. They wouldn't get in your way. They're very discreet, more so than the FBI so it seems.."

"I don't want to. I mean, I want to continue working on the case. I just wish that you wouldn't treat me like I'm under suspicion all the time. I know I am, but the pretence would be nice. I wouldn't be as anxious.

"I make you anxious?"

"Ryuzaki, I'm under suspicion for thousands of murders. Of course I'm anxious."

L rolled his eyes. "Would you like one, Light-kun?" he asked holding out a yellow, crinkling packet.

"No thanks."

"I thought you liked these."

Light peered at the packet, "Beef consommé crisps? Yeah, but you don't." This time he peered at L as if exposing an imposter.

"I am sometimes partial to a crisp and I asked for these specifically because I was under the impression that they were a favourite of Light-kun's."

Light screwed his eyes up defensively although for what reason he wasn't sure. "Well, thanks but it's a bit late for me."

"Ah, OK then. Right enough," L said, relieved at an excuse to dispose of the savouries.

L reached over, depositing the bag on the floor at the side of the bed. When he righted himself, he was surprised to see that Light had shifted and was now resting upon an elbow, lackadaisically facing L and looking like a lost renaissance masterpiece that Michaelangelo might have kept in his private chambers to contemplate at his leisure. L manoeuvred himself into a mirroring position and they allowed a moment of silence to pass and with it a sea of unspoken words. L noticed with interest that Light's eyes changed colour with tiredness.

And somewhere a clock was ticking.

"Is there anything I can do to convince you that I'm not Kira?" Light asked at length, his voice hypnotically soft.

L continued to stare into the dimmed features of Light's face, scanning the elegant and blessed lines and caramel eyes which stared almost imploringly into his own. There were only a few layers left of the veil which kept truth hidden.

"Your guilt or innocence will be proven only over time Light-kun. Or are you asking me to conspire with you?"

L watched Light's eyes flicker, hunting through L's blank expression, trying to decipher his words like they were a puzzle of hidden meanings and suggestions. Maybe they were. As Light closed his eyes briefly, L saw the rush of sadness and frustration which followed, permeating those inanimate features in that perfect, perfect face. An opportunity swept aside and he almost thought himself heartless for it.

"I'm not Kira, L. I know I'm not," Light breathed out in defeat, intelligent eyes alighting again and focusing in on the enemy. "This is insane." He turned, leaving L to stare at his back.

"Goodnight Light-kun," Ryuzaki said kindly, staring at the boy's outline in the charcoal of the room for a few moments before turning himself and reaching out for his laptop. Soon his face was lit by the dim blue of the screen.

* * *

Misa needed the toilet. She was annoyed because she'd just got her dress to sit right and if she went to the toilet it would muss up the carefully arranged folds and pleats of the lolita skirt and she'd have to straighten it out all over again. She pouted as she went to the bathroom, out of habit she closed the door incase Light came home unexpectedly. Seeing your beloved on the toilet was not dignified and she wanted Light to be proud of his Misa-Misa. As she pushed the door to click to a close, she felt a brush against her arm. Slightly spooked, she turned and saw a flash of the white, bony, cold fingers which clamped across her mouth. She tried to struggle free but she was held fast.

"Misa. Don't be frightened. Listen to me."

Misa's eyes flickered around manically. What is this?

"Misa, you must trust me. Please don't struggle. I am your friend. I've come to help you. Misa. Listen to me. Light Yagami is Kira."

What? Misa thought. How does this person know Light? Maybe it's a stalker! They're targeting me to hurt Light!

"This will be hard for you to accept but I am a shinigami. I was _your_ shinigami. I gave you a book. A book in which any person's name which is written inside, will die. You are the second Kira. You and Light Yagami were working together but you were both captured. You are both still being watched, even now. There are cameras all over this building, in this room, but they cannot see me, only you can. I have damaged the microphone in here only so you can talk to me and they cannot hear. You must not be frightened when you see me. Do you understand."

Misa tried to nod against the cold grip. On doing so, she felt herself released. In trepidation, she turned to the mirror, to her left was a huge white monster. A demon. Bright burning eyes, purple lips and cold, marrowless, china white bones. The hulking frame stood still beside her.

"You're a...shinigami?" Misa asked the creature in the mirror.

"Yes, I was your shinigami."

"I don't remember. When was this?" Misa said, a fistful of red, polished nails absently scraped at her scalp as if the answer was hidden there somewhere.

"When you were captured you were forced to give up your Death Note. I asked you to forgo your memories to keep you safe. I have come to offer you the Death Note again."

"Memories," Misa repeated, dragging her trembling hand down the side of her face. Is this why there were so many things she couldn't remember? Memories which stopped abruptly like a broken tape, picking up again, breaking off - is this why? "Do you know where Light is?"

"He is here. In this building."

"Still here! Is that the reason that I never see him? Because he is imprisoned too?"

"Yes. They plan to keep you both here. I can't see you suffer anymore."

"But, Light, you must help Light!"

"I have done what he told me to. He had a plan to ensure his release and told me not to interfere, but it went wrong. Also, I never promised anything in regards to you. I do not think that it's in your best interests any longer to be kept in the dark."

"But why can't you kill the people holding him? Holding us?"

"That was an option but no longer. You see, if a shinigami has emotional reasons behind ending a human's life, they will die themselves, almost immediately. L has made plans that if he dies, you and Light will be executed. If I kill L, I will die. There is hardly enough time to write one name into a Death Note before a Shinigami dies. I have seen it happen. Even if I kill L, his assistant and a few of the people holding you here so you were able to escape, the scheme for your execution is too well organised and widespread. Too many people know of it and will ensure that his wishes are carried out. So, you see, if I kill your captors, you will be killed and I will not be able to prevent it."

"So, what can I do?"

"We must trust that Light Yagami's original plan succeeds."

"Well, of course it will!" Misa squealed,clapping her hands together excitably and turning to face Rem, her face glowing with a wide smile. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes wide with expectation. "Uh, what is his plan?"


	5. How Soon is Now?

**A/N **Nothing to declare apart from swearing, a non-traumatising childhood memory which is puke-worthy, unexpected relations (also puke-worthy), teenage angst and the line: "Misa-Misa DIG!"

You're not easily offended, right?

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**How Soon Is Now?  
**

_I am the son_

_And the heir_

_Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar_

_I am the son and heir_

_Of nothing in particular_

_You shut your mouth_

_How can you say_

_I go about things the wrong way ?_

_I am human and I need to be loved_

_Just like everybody else does  
_

_How Soon is Now ~ The Smiths_

* * *

In the sound booth in the recording studio, Misa spoke as clearly as she possibly could. It was the 16th time she's had to reread the lines to quite a long scene but matching her voice to the film footage was difficult. The sound engineer wasn't yet exasperated but he was starting to consider taking the desperate measures of cutting the best parts of each take and matching them up to the film himself. Why couldn't the bitch have just said the line correctly during filming? That's what he wanted to know.

Matsuda looked on from behind the engineer. He'd started falling asleep somewhere in the middle of the 5th take and was fluctuating between letting his head droop forwards, and waking himself up again with a start. After the 21st take he was completely asleep.

"Ok, Misa-Misa, just watch your breathing before the 'sands of time' line otherwise you won't sync."

"Oh yes! Ok! Um. Could I finish this tomorrow though? My voice is feeling scratchy."

"There's a bottle of water in there with you."

"Misa-Misa is TIRED!"

"Aren't we all," the engineer mumbled to himself. "Ok, Misa-Misa. Tomorrow morning."

"Thank you!" Misa said into the microphone, dumping her headphones on the chair and rushing out.

"Should I wake your manager?"

"Oh no, let him sleep. Matsu is very tired too. He won't bother you will he?" Misa said with a wink before quietly skipping out of the booth, down the hallway, and out of the studio.

* * *

"Ha, Light's so funny burying it under a tree. Why couldn't he just have hidden it behind the fridge like a normal person? Oh, but I suppose that's because he's so wonderful and that's why I love him and could never love anyone else!" Misa sang to herself as she walked through the forest. She stopped abruptly and stared down at the grassy area beneath a particularly large tree. The dappled shade made everything look eerily blue and otherworldly. "Right, this must be it," she said. "Misa-Misa DIG!" She held her hands up like claws before proceeding to scrape away at the earth with gusto.

After a few minutes of digging and sighing about her ruined manicure, she looked behind her. "So, if Light's Death Note is here, where's mine again? Or is this one mine and Light's is somewhere else? I get confused," she asked the ether, throwing a turf of earth behind her. "Ewww, worms! This is gross! Oh, wait...yes! Found it!"

She pulled out a wrapped tin box. Inside was a black notebook like Rem had described, although it was not as grand as she had imagined. The finely textured surface and the strange white characters across the cover reminded her of a homework book she had once, only she had stuck pictures of boy bands and unicorns over it.

Misa rushed to hold Light's book in her hands.

She was immediately blinded by a brilliant white light, then she saw black books, Rem and Ryuk and Kira on a video recording, packages in Aoyama, eyes, names, numbers, scrawling writing in glitter ink. And Light.

"Oh! Thank you! My Death Note and my memories. Waaah! A love letter!" Misa cried, hugging the black book to her chest and ripping open the letter with this other, scanning the neat handwriting carefully as a grinning black sweep of tattered leather settled ominously on a branch above her.

_Do this and I will love you forever._

* * *

Matsuda ran manically up and down the hallway of the studio. He'd knocked on the ladies bathroom several times but received no reply apart from a middle-aged woman who had emerged looking furious and held a can of mace and a rape alarm in her hands. He reached in his coat for his phone again and dialled. This time, the phone was answered.

"Misa Misa! Where are you? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Oh, silly Matsu. I went for a coffee. You were sleeping and Misa Misa didn't want to wake you but was soooooo bored waiting. I'm in the coffee shop on the corner."

"Misa Misa, listen. Please don't mention this to anyone. They'll be so angry with me for sleeping on the job."

"Yes, and you should have been looking after me, Matsu," Misa giggled down the phone.

"Urrrgh! Please stay right where you are. I'll be right there!" Matsuda shouted hysterically down the phone, nearly tripping over himself as he ran out the door.

* * *

"Perfection inspires affection."

"I thought that you were above that kind of mentality," Light said, visibly suffering some disappointment at the remark.

"I wasn't speaking personally, I was making a social statement. People like to associate themselves with talent, accomplishment, fame or aesthetic beauty - almost as if it they think rubs off on them or reflects their own personal value." L paused for a moment as he interpreted the subtle changes in Light's expression and body language. "I've always found such psychological oddities quite fascinating. I'm sure that Light-kun must be used to such people."

"Why should I be used to such people?" Light started, but upon seeing L's blank eyes staring back he obviously found it pointless to continue. "Some people can be shallow," he acquiesced.

"Knowing that people are interested in you purely for your physical attributes must be irritating to someone with your intelligence and moral stance. Then again, you do encourage it."

"What?" Light asked, his voice having risen an octave.

L turned his attention to the fingernails on his right hand, inspecting them with a slightly furrowed brow. "Your primping and preening. You have a vain streak. In fact, to call it a vain streak may be an injustice."

"Vain!" Light exclaimed incredulously, turning in his chair to face L, but not catching himself before he could mask his insulted pride before continuing. "I … primp and preen?"

"You do. You're constantly fixing your hair and clothing in mirrors. You hold me up from getting on with my work. It's most irritating."

"Ryuzaki, that's not vanity. That's just taking basic care of your personal appearance. Of course, why should you understand such a concept. You obviously find no value in grooming. Besides, I don't primp and preen. Cats do, peacocks do – "

"And so does Light-kun. Anyway, I see that I have struck a nerve. I was under the assumption that Light-kun's pride didn't sit so deeply that no criticism could be levied at him, no matter how trifling."

"Just because you never look in a mirror. Probably for the best. It'd probably crack when faced with you."

"That's a low blow, Light-kun. And rather childish."

Light grumbled and reached across in front of L to grab some papers and a stapler.

Everyone had grown used to Watari's sudden and unexpected appearances. A lot of the time, Light only noticed that they'd been visited when he noticed that his coffee had been refilled and that L had a new plate of cookies. It wasn't exactly as if he had an overbearing aura so that his presence could be felt, he simply appeared and disappeared at will and very rarely spoke unless prompted by L or to announce something like a butler. Now was one of those times.

"Ryuzaki. Amane-san and Matsuda-san has arrived back from the studio," Watari said. "She wishes to converse with Yagami-kun."

"Oh, converse. Well, Light-kun, you had better not keep her waiting."

"I'm busy right now."

"That's hardly the attitude that a strapping teenager should have."

"I'm not strapping, I'm working. If Misa wanted to see me she should have called first."

"And made an appointment?"

"Yes."

"Light-kun, I'm giving you the opportunity to see Amane-san in private. Well, relative privacy considering the fact that I'll be watching you on this screen," L said, tapping a monitor to his left for emphasis. "I won't be accompanying you so I suggest that you take advantage."

Light stared, visibly irritated at his work being disrupted and being mocked. Being set up on dates by L of all people. "Fine. I'll be a couple of minutes."

"If Light-kun can only exert himself for only a couple of minutes then I don't suppose that Amane-san will trouble herself to return again," L said, cramming a brightly coloured sweet into his mouth. Ide and Aizawa glanced at each other, looking as if they were in pain.

"We're not doing anything like that!" Light protested. "Ugh, just shut up, Ryuzaki."

Watari unlocked Light's cuff. Light was suspicious about this sudden change. Perhaps L just couldn't be bothered being interrupted from stuffing his face? Whatever the reason, Light rubbed at the roughened ring of skin around his wrist left by the handcuff as he was escorted out of the office and into the lift, followed by the hysterical laughter of Ide and Aizawa. On the ground floor, Matsuda was waiting, looking thoroughly exhausted. He managed a weak smile as Light passed. Watari motioned for Light to go inside a room and locked it the door behind him, leaving him alone with...

"Light!" shrieked a high-pitched and hysterical Misa, all large, eager eyes, blonde hair and lace.

"Hello, Misa," Light greeted, gulping for air as Misa threw herself around his neck.

"Light, Misa Misa has missed you so much but it feels like she loves you all the more for being parted from you for so long. She thinks about you all the time! She works hard but all she can think about is her Light."

"That's... nice. Listen, Misa, I'm sorry but I don't have much time. I'm busy working at the moment."

"Oh. But I won't take very long. I promise. I know you're busy but I have something for you." With that, Misa anchored her two hands around Light's neck and leaned upwards, kissing Light deeply, slipping her tongue inside a mouth which had fallen open with shock. As her tongue forced itself underneath his, he managed to pull himself away.

"Misa, what are you doing! Control yourself! Ryuzaki is watching upstairs," Light gasped pointing at a camera. "My father is up there too!"

Misa picked at something in her mouth and Light couldn't resist wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Oh, Light, please just let me and then you'll understand," she implored.

"I understand, Misa, but this is not the time. You have to ring next time, remember?" He reached forwards and pecked the human doll on the cheek before making to leave.

"But Light!"

"I'm sorry Misa, but I really am busy right now." Watari was thankfully quick to open the door, Light gave a perfunctory smile back at Misa before making his way back to the lift.

"Misa-san, it's time to go back to your rooms now," Watari said kindly.

"I … uhhhh … ok," she answered softly. Her eyes filled with tears as she allowed the elderly gentleman guide her.

* * *

Light re-entered the HQ and, noticing the hushed atmosphere, straightened his back and strode to his chair. Wedy, Aiber and V had reappeared in the short time he'd been gone.

"Hey, lover boy!" Aiber said, turning a page of his newspaper as Light walked past.

"Casanova in hell," Wedy muttered to V.

Light decided to ignore any and all comments. He extended his arm obligingly as Watari closed the metal circlet back in place in his wrist, then resumed his seat and focused again upon his work - a spreadsheet the like of which the world had never seen.

"Are you all right, Light-kun?" came a voice to his left.

"Yes, Ryuzaki. Just trying to work," Light said sternly.

"I do not like to see Light-kun molested under my own roof, so to speak."

"I wasn't molested."

"Oh? It seemed that Amane-san's amorous attentions didn't seem to be wanted or reciprocated. But then, perhaps the angle of the camera was poor. What do you think, Aizawa-san?"

"Oh leave the lad alone."

"Would you like me to leave you alone, Light-kun?" L asked suggestively with hooded eyes. Light blinked at him before spinning back to his computer.

"I'd just like to finish this spreadsheet."

"It is indeed very impressive. You could even call it epic. What does it represent?" L slid his chair against Light's.

"It's a database of the geographics, ages, sexes, crimes ( if any), specification of death and the time of death of all suspected Kira victims," Light said. He was infinitely proud of it and was pretty sure he should get an award if there was any justice in the world.

"Ah," L hooked a finger around his bottom lip and leaned across Light to peer at the gridded screen. "We already have one of those," he finished, settling back down in his chair.

"You what?"

"We already have one of those. However, it would be good to compare data. There might be something you've missed."

"Something _I've_ missed? Oh, for fuck's sake," Light said quietly. Flopping back in his chair.

"Language, Light-kun. Matsuda-san is present."

"And ladies!" Wedy cooed.

"Swear all you like, Light," Aiber chipped in.

"Plus, your Father is here. And look, Amane-san is crying in her bathroom again. And she's talking to herself. And we have no audio again, Wedy," L said monotonously.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Wedy hissed.

* * *

"Oh, it was terrible!" Misa cried in the bathroom, Rem had once again managed to disconnect the microphone. It was only a matter of time before Ryuzaki sent Watari or, even worse, Wedy to come to attempt to fix it again. Wedy had been driven half-mad by this 'faulty connection'. She blamed water leaking onto the delicate electrics and despite trying every precaution she could think of, somehow, on a fairly regular basis, the sound would mysteriously drop out, L would start moaning, Wedy would despair and then pull the ceiling tiles down.

"I'm sorry, Misa," Rem said, hovering at the side of the bath.

"I nearly had it. I had the note under my tongue but he pulled away before I could give him back his memories. OH! I FAILED LIGHT! I'm so sorry, Light!" she wailed between clasped hands.

"Misa, you know my feelings on this matter. You're relatively safe at the moment, as is Light. Why not wait until his plan progresses."

"But we can't be together! How can we be happy if we're apart! I'll die, Rem, I swear," Misa cried.

"Misa, you won't have to put yourself in danger. Light will get his memories back."

"But how?" Misa sniffed.

Rem placed a skeletal hand upon Misa's shoulders which were wracked with sobs. "There might be one way."

* * *

Light shifted uncomfortably, trying to block out the very presence of L being in the same room. Unfortunately, the gangly misfit of a detective had permeated the very heart of the building. Even with Light's ears covered, his eyes closed and his face buried deep in a pillow, it was impossible to pretend that there was no L. The place literally stank of Eau du Early Onset Diabetes. Every available surface was cluttered with plates which were scattered with crumbs and smeared with traces of patisserie cream, chocolate sauce or that bizarre clear viscous liquid (Light hoped against hope that it was pure glucose) which L would, at times of particular stress, pour liberally all over whatever delicacy was close to hand. Failing that, he would simply spoon-feed it to himself like medicine.

Also, despite the layers of cotton and swansdown stuffing, Light could still perceive that familiar gentle tapping of keys. A few days into their time together, Light requested that he could be given some earplugs, L refused with a typical - 'But what would I do if I had to need to speak to you? No, this current situation is quite adequate.' And that would be that.

Light's exhaustion had, over the past few weeks, become such that he had a permanent fuzzy feeling in his head. His jaw ached from tensing, his eyes were gritty and his head generally felt like there was a Caribbean steel drum band having a party inside his skull when he wasn't invited. Despite this and despite everyone commenting upon his increasingly weary appearance, made worse, no doubt by his previous 50-odd day spell of incarceration on L's orders and his ill-advised love affair of sorts with his gaoler only without any benefits, L remained unmoved.

"Ryuzaki?" Light said in a gravelly tone, easing himself up.

"Light-kun," L replied, bright as a button. It was almost as if he had expected to be called upon at that particular moment.

"I thought we'd made some progress."

"Progress, Light-kun? You mean with the case? I _suppose_ you could say that, depending upon your view of course. Please do not get despondent."

"No. I mean with your manners."

"Hmmm?"

"Ryuzaki. You have none."

"Light-kun, I do not understand you. It is against my better judgement that you are not still in solitary confinement. I have, given that fact, treated you _marvellously_ well." L's profile was suddenly dark like a storm had descended.

Light sighed. "I don't want to argue Ryuzaki, I just would like some sleep. Remember? We've spoken about this before. Many, many times before. It's like a broken record."

"Would it help at all if I arranged for a low-dose sedative to be prescribed?"

"I don't want a sedative, Ryuzaki! How dare you suggest drugging me!"

"Very well," L said, resignedly closing his laptop. "Please do not become agitated. It was only a query. It seemed like a logical answer."

"Screw your logical answer," Light replied gruffly, flopping back on his pillows.

Only the dim glow of one of L's computer hard drives lit the room as L crawled into bed. Light lay stretched out like a body ready for burial, his hands interlinked across his stomach. L sat up against the headboard, his face turned towards Light.

"Where do you inherit your looks from, Light-kun?"

"Haha, Ryuzaki. Very funny."

"I wasn't trying to be humorous, Light-kun. I was merely observing that you look neither like you mother or your father. While your sister does appear to have inherited physical attributes from both your parents, you -"

"What are you insinuating, Ryuzaki?" Light said, eyes fiery and his eyebrows tight in the formation of a scowl.

"Only that your physical and mental attributes are unexpected given your gene pool."

"I honestly don't know how insulted I should feel. Are you suggesting that my parents are stupid or that they are not my parents at all? Are you saying that I am an anomaly? A freak? What?"

"Light-kun, forgive me, I didn't intend you offend you or your family. I did not mean to suggest that you are... that is to say, I have no doubt that your parents _are_ you parents. I merely wished to know if you inherited your looks from an uncle or another member of your family. Forgive my clumsiness. You may have a point when you talk of my lack of social graces. I am in fact aware of them, but you see, I have not had much need or cause to adhere to them previously."

Light turned to face L, surprised. His felt his brow soften as his hostility dissipated. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have flown off the handle. It's just that it's been mentioned before, when I was younger."

L didn't reply, choosing to remain silent in order to encourage Light to continue. Light stared back with a intensely bored expression on his face.

"If your silence is an attempt to get me to elaborate then you'll be disappointed," he said.

L made a note on a post-it in his head: 1. Psychology is not your strong suit in regards to Light-kun who is, 2. a very bad patient.

"How silly of me. Why would I think that Light-kun would deign to give me a possible insight into the construction and workings of his infallible moral fibre?"

"Who said that it was an insight into anything?"

"You're being rude, Light-kun."

"I'm never rude. Hardly ever. I'm trying to be polite. I'm always trying to be polite while you're always trying your damnedest to piss me off."

"I could try harder, believe me."

Light rolled his eyes when he realised that this wasn't going away. "Ok. Ryuzaki wants a story? Once upon a time there were some bitches who spread a rumour around alleging that I wasn't my mother's child because, apparently, I didn't look like my parents. My mother, instead of ignoring the complete fuckwittery, took it very badly. Things weren't the same after that – she became very self-conscious and if we went out as a family, she always walked behind. And yeah, I felt responsible, which I'm well aware is ridiculous but that is the reasoning of a four-year old. I was embarrassed and I didn't want to be singled out for something so meaningless. There was me, a kid, and I wanted to be valued for what kind of a person I was, not for what I looked like. I know, stupid, right? Doesn't happen. I _was_ treated differently. I _am_ treated differently. I was popular without trying while others were destined to forever be outsiders, but then, that's how the world is. The worst thing is, I'm guilty of it. I judge people in exactly the same way. I don't want to, but I do. The End. Did you enjoy your story?"

"It is quite a cynical view for a child to come to the conclusion that society itself is unjust based upon an unfortunate event caused by two people with too much time on their hands and too few brain cells."

"I didn't say that, and don't think that I was a cynical child, I was realistic. Are you going to tell me that you have a rosy view of the world? Remember, I've seen some of your case files."

"It's not rosy, no. I see the world for what it is and it's a flawed thing, but you can't blame any one part of it because it's made from a contribution of issues. Anyway, the innocent and completely unavoidable judgements on an interpersonal level is simply human nature. We function under universal impulses. We all make assumptions and that cannot be controlled. We can, however control the urge to vocalise it and spread damaging gossip.""

"They shouldn't even have thought those things."

"That's a rather naïve and emotional response, Light-kun. They spread a rumour which upset your mother and had a profound effect upon you. They didn't murder anyone."

"No, it's what they represent. It applies to murderers too. It's in a system like ours which encourages passive judgement and classification that can cause untold damage. It can corrupt moral codes. Killers are created, not born."

"And then does one rotten apple spoil the whole barrel? You can't make such a sweeping statement. Each case is different. There are a multitude of factors which create a murderer. In my experience, often they're just bonkers, no matter how much you analyse them and their history."

"So you have no interest in preventing the development of criminals?"

"Not particularly. That's not my concern or interest. So, back to your story. It's foolish to operate under the romantic notion that individual principles can override invariant behaviour. As you yourself said, you cannot avoid judging others, no matter how much you dislike the concept of doing so. It doesn't make the individual or society as a whole inherently bad."

"You couldn't have worked on despicable crimes and not understand. You can't spend your life being confronted with the evil that men do, the evil that society nurtured, and not have it colour your views. I don't see you spending your spare time prancing around the mountain tops singing and wearing lederhosen made from old curtains because it's a wonderful world."

"That's quite an odd image you've painted there," L said.

"I just don't see why innocent people should be hurt by the actions of others," Light continued. "That's why I want to work for the NPA. Even though you've made it your business to oppose everything I say, I think that it means something to you too."

"Light-kun, this may disappoint you, but my motivation is not wholly mired in moralistic philosophy."

"What is it mired in then? A pile of steaming shit?" Light said. He looked positively furious. It was quite something.

"I'm rather like you, Light-kun. I bore easily. I like challenges. I'm not suggesting that I have no moral stance, obviously, but I'm not driven by an overwhelming desire to make the world a better place like an overzealous beauty queen who's had her spinach."

Light opened and closed his mouth like a guppy fish as he retracted whatever he was going to say. Instead, he spent a few moments staring at the ceiling. "You're putting yourself down," he said at last.

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know."

"None of us are perfect, Light-kun. If we're not perfect individually, how can we be perfect as a society?"

"We should realise that society does have a responsibility for crime as well as the fact that we have a responsibility as individuals. I don't care if it bumps my Kira probability scale up a few percent, because it's the truth. Anyone who says that everything is lovely in the world is either lying, delusional or just plain psychotic."

"What was this about again? To be honest, you lost me with the curtain lederhosen," L said, admiring how the bloodrush of the outburst had coloured Light's complexion. It was most off-putting when he really should be totting up some mental arithmetic.

"Ha."

"What is funny, Light-kun?"

"I was just picturing you in lederhosen."

"Please don't."

"I can't, it's there for life now," Light laughed, tapping the side of his head. L simply stared at him, which wasn't unusual, but he looked slightly startled and awkward. Light shifted back down into the pillows, breathing out the remaining laughs like a hacking cough. Facing each other, Light reached out and absentmindedly flicked a few stray hairs from L's forehead which were obscuring his view of the black eyes.

"It was a boring story. Sorry if you were expecting some deep and meaningful tale of woe but my childhood was fairly uneventful. I suppose I get hung up on innocuous things which you don't want to hear about. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"I'm glad you are."

"Is it _revealing_?" Light asked.

"Yes. It's nice that Light-kun feels that he can speak to me like a friend."

"Is that's all? I'd hate for it to affect my probabilities and percentages."

L ignored Light's insinuation, or refused to acknowledge it. "So, Light-kun. You recognised the shallow nature of society at an early age."

L obviously wanted more potted titbits and anecdotes from Light's past which he didn't already have documented in his dedicated file to the young enigma. Light, however, was rather bored of this conversation already, or had found whatever he'd wanted from it. He seemed a lot more thoughtful and calmer as if part of his brain was ticking over something while he went on autopilot.

"I can't say it's really bothered me," he said. "It's just a minor irritation, that's all. Hey, don't you think it's strange how you know everything about me and I know basically nothing about you, apart from the obvious of course."

"You're referring to my lack of manners?" L looked down, heavy lidded.

"I didn't mean that. Although they do reveal something about you, I suppose."

"What do you judge from my idiosyncrasies?" L said, shifting, interested.

"Huh?"

"Please. I promise that I will be neither offended or flattered."

"Ok. I would say that maybe you are an only child."

"What else?"

"Um, well, that you're European, but is that a given? Maybe English because of the tennis training. You mentioned being in England for five years at least, so you might have been born there, emigrated and returned back as a youth. Plus, the sweets you like are mostly English or French."

"Light-kun, you're lying again."

"What?"

"Your rationale is based mostly upon my accent when speaking English. I have no doubt that you have noticed it on at least two occasions."

"An accent means nothing. You could have picked it up at any point. It doesn't mean that you were born in that country. You might... put it on."

"Put it on? My accent? I'm not Dick Van Dyke, Light-kun."

Light laughed gently, "Chim chim cheroo!"

"And?" L prodded. He wasn't going to allow himself to be compared to a chimney sweep with a terrible cockney accent.

"Oh. And that's it."

"That's it? Well, I must admit that I do feel some disappointment. Then again, it must be an error on my side. Perhaps it is my lack of social graces which results in there being so little cause for contemplation."

"No, it's just that there's not much to glean any information from."

"It would be very foolish of me to reveal anything about myself, wouldn't it?" L said tenderly, setting a finger at the corner of Light's oh-so-slightly upturned mouth.

"How is it fair that you know everything about me while I know absolutely nothing about you?" Light said, stretching cat-like and closing his eyes briefly as he did as if caught in some fleeting ecstasy.

"We've been over this, Light-kun, and the answer is the same. I am not a suspected serial killer of several thousand people."

Light's eyes snapped open. "Why do you always have to bring it back to that?"

"I can't ignore it, Light-kun. I can't ignore what you've done. You've committed some of the most heinous crimes of the past century. You're like an embodied World War."

L's expression was veiled and dark. Light's skin on his neck prickled with anxious anger. "Stop," Light said, turning his face away.

The attempt of blankness upon Light's face which failed to conceal the torrent of anger he obviously felt. That, coupled with the way that he dismissed L so casually, as if he was simply a minor annoyance who would disappear as soon as he was out of Light's sight, incensed L beyond reason.

"You know that you are. How have you forgotten? Tell me how you did it," he demanded, drawing himself closer.

"Stop it, Ryuzaki," Light said forcefully, eyes flashing amber, pushing L's hand away. "I don't know _anything_!"

"Yes, you DO!" L said, suddenly straddling him, one hand around his neck holding him down into the mattress. Light struggled vainly under the pressure, feeling his taut, throbbing artery under L's thumb. He stilled, taking in the sudden physicality of their argument. His defensive arm curled instinctively around the back of L's neck bringing him low. He kissed him hungrily.

He felt L resign to it; felt a shudder run down his neck and Light was jubilant in that moment because he had caused it. L wasn't fighting him – he'd given in to him. With his interrogator now off-guard, Light pushed upwardly sharply, flipping him onto his back. Light didn't give him a moment to be shocked or to retaliate. He kept him in a lip-lock and he'd draw blood if he had to. Anything to stop the cogs of his mathematical, beautiful mind and squeeze those suspicious percentages into thin air. He pressed down firmly over branch-like collar bones.

"I don't know anything," Light gasped in between hot, desperate kisses.

* * *

Light opened his eyes to a warm darkness and pulled away enough to realise that his face had been pressed into L's throat. There was a dull rhythm of a heartbeat beneath him and...Oh God, he didn't want to move.

Cursing the curiosity which got the better of him, his eyes were drawn up to view L's face from a new and unusual abstract angle. He felt a mild feeling of worry in the pit of his stomach at this colossal misjudgement of two alleged intelligent men. Light pressed his carnal row of teeth lightly into a crushed lip and realised that for the most part he was, surprisingly, more than pleased. That part of him released a contented breath and tried to hide his face in the nook between L's shoulder and the pillows beneath.

Light felt a hand brush over his thigh and everything felt sharply sensitive, like a cool breeze. A trail of goose pimples followed a line drawn by the lazy wing of a finger which belonged to a dreaming man. He'd never seen L asleep, not like this, but then apparently this was a night of revelations.

_Close your eyes._

* * *

When Light awoke again, there was a band of florescent light along the bottom of the door. The automatic lighting system had turned on; which could mean that it was after 6am, which in turn could only mean that Watari was awake.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned over the body next to him to clumsily reach for his watch on the bedside table.

"Hello."

Light, shocked at the breaking of the silence, fell back upon the bed clutching his watch like a thief. He took in the film noir eyes which were even darker in the half-light. Everything else was a bit hazy around the edges.

"Hello," he replied, after a moment.

"Where are you going?" L asked huskily, blinking against some invisible glow.

"I was just getting my watch. It's, uh," Light said. He took a quick peak at the illuminated clock face. "It's 6:10."

L blinked again, this time in disbelief, turning Light's watch towards him to confirm that he wasn't being told a massive fib. "Oh," he said, releasing Light's hand, which dropped limply onto L's chest.

"I'm sorry that I woke you," Light apologised and in attempting a quick recovery, he lifted his hand and tried to snap the timepiece to his wrist.

L just stared at him. Light felt muscles relax across his brow and a tendon try to pull the corner of his lip into a ridiculous adoring expression. No, there is absolutely no reason to grin at L like an idiot. He distracted himself with his watch which stubbornly flailed around his wrist.

"Here," L said softly, taking Light's struggling hands in his and deftly snapping the closure with calm, tapering fingers.

"Thank you," Light murmured.

He wished that L would say something to acknowledge what happened. This 'business as usual' attitude was making Light nervous. He honestly believed that L would have been at least a little flustered. The fact that he wasn't - if anything he was strangely calm - set the germ of suspicion in Light's mind. L had probably planned the whole thing and orchestrated it so perfectly that Light had fallen blindly and eagerly right into the trap which had been laid for him. He didn't want to believe it, not least because if he did he would have to acknowledge that he'd made a mistake and he _never _did that.

L shifted uncomfortably, legs untangling themselves from Light and drawing up to a horizontal crouch like a recovery position. Light knew what was coming. He fought an urge to push the dishevelled detective back into the scented sheets and just, postpone it. Just a little while longer.

Instead, he brushed a nonchalant hand through his own shock of hair, trying to tame it. He could not have anticipated the sudden turmoil he felt and which grew with every passing second. He had been perfectly at ease before L opened his damned eyes. He would have never imagined fumbling with basic tasks and essentially losing the ability to direct his legs unless L prompted them in the night like an electric instruction. He never could have imagined the strange tingly sensation he felt now.

The bedsheets behind his back were cold. He'd expected himself to remain composed, impassive and self-assured when this situation arose, not awkward with fat fingers and a brain going in different directions. But then he'd never considered the possibility that he would be striking up a post-coital cigarette of sorts with L of all people. L, who, amongst being other things, happened to be another man.

Light's father would kill him. Or L. Maybe both. Shit. Was this the moment? The moment where Light suddenly snapped and lost all dignity by imploding into hysterics? It was going to happen, wasn't it?

L's tone sliced evenly through the mess.

"I need some cake."

* * *

L held a cherry perilously above the gorge of his open mouth.

"V hasn't come up with anything since arriving in Japan. That is," L said, waving a slip of paper between the two fingers of his other hand, "apart from a bill which she's sent me for a Jaguar XJ220, which, you'll be glad to know, Light-kun, she tells me was a bargain."

L seemed unconvinced by V's assertion. He finally let the ruby fruit to descend into the bottomless pit of his stomach, leaving his tongue to playing with the stalk.

"She did find Misora's body," Light offered, crossing his legs under the desk.

"Yes, but I was under the impression that she'd follow up. She's all promises, that woman," L replied, daintily flicking through a stack of documents like they were playing cards, apparently deeming them useless.

"I think that she was annoyed that you sent her on that photo-shoot with Misa."

"Well, she's a professional, apparently. That's what she says anyway. She thinks that she's the best thing to happen to the investigation since that bakery opened down the road. I thought that she would be able to deal with a mentally unstable diva with a Light fixation. How was I supposed to know that Misa would fly at her like that?"

It was interesting to note that since L had taken up residence in the HQ, three new bakeries and sweet shops had opened in the local area and were doing a roaring trade.

"It was quite unfortunate," Light muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Well, she better make herself useful otherwise she can buy her own conspicuous and ridiculously overpriced cars," L said, settling back into his familiar crunched up position and allowing his toes to do a Mexican wave. He tossed the hefty garage bill to the floor to be picked by Matsuda at a later time.

"Hmmm," Light agreed, unconsciously.

"Light-kun, are you all right?" said L, his tone low.

"Yes."

"Light-kun."

"Yeah," Light said, before leaning in towards L to whisper, "I'm adjusting." Say something, he thought. Please, say something.

"Ah," L's limp hands hung over sharp denim kneecaps.

Unbelievable.

"You obviously don't have to. I'm glad I left such a lasting impression," Light spat, considering for a moment that whispering in a room full of detectives probably wasn't the best way to handle things since it often had the undesired effect of attracting attention. L didn't reply quickly enough which threw Light's common sense out the window. "Well? Say something!" he demanded, his eyes positively violent after a second of staring into the blank depths of L's inscrutable face. He had the strong, unpleasant sense that he was being examined. It reminded him being bound on the floor of a sterile cell.

"Don't be peevish, Light-kun. You know that I had to eat an extra two slices of cheesecake to restore my equilibrium. I wonder whether you won't be content unless I'm spatchcocked across the bed in a coma. They do advise for people not to engage in relations with co-workers, don't they?" He joked, and Light's eyes widened, "Light?"

"No, um. I don't want you spatchcocked," Light whispered, shaking his head back to a box of paperclips.

"Are you alright, though?"

"Yes," Light answered, untangling a chain L had made of the bent wires during a time of boredom.

"No, I mean are you _alright_?" L repeated, pulling his chair alongside Light's to create a protective wall.

Actually, no, Light wasn't all right. Everything had gone a bit askew and maybe it was the shock of everything being so horribly normal afterwards which was the catalyst for his not-all-right status. Light had the overwhelming sense that he had fucked up in an enormous way and found himself unable to untwist his own emotions ,so he began trying to understand what L's strategy was instead. Yes, he was increasingly convinced that this was all a contrivance on L's part. Then he realised that he blamed L, and those bitter, paranoid thoughts were competing with a longing ache and heavy shoulders.

He was infuriated that he'd given L exactly what he wanted, in more ways than one. L was probably making an Freudian diagnosis at this very moment. So yes, this was a hurdle to get over.

There he was, knowing that his body was betraying him. His face was twisting into snarls and he was answering polite questions like an angry drunk. Yes, he was still getting over that particular hurdle, knowing that he still had others to follow. This was going to be a pretty high jump, and it probably had a moat on the other side.

"Do I look different?" he said, suddenly exposing the vulnerability of the open wound in his mind for L. Why on earth? He just couldn't stop himself.

L found Light's hand under the desk and he held it between his, "What do you mean?" L asked, the concern in his voice was like that comforting, foxed scent of an old book and Light almost felt consoled by that alone, except, not really. He had the terrible feeling that the only way to shut his brain up would be to drag L into a broom closet for a few hours. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

"My dad, he won't know will he?" he whispered, wide-eyed. God, why was he asking L that? He had lost the fucking plot. That was the only explanation.

L stared at Light for a few moments as if weighing up asylum committal options.

"Light-kun, I think you need some cake," he said with a little smile in his eyes and blessing Light's hand with his own linking fingers. Disentangling himself momentarily, he reached behind him for the convenient larder Watari had brought over half an hour earlier. As he stretched, Light was distracted by the exposed flank of white cotton jersey and in his mind's eye he imagined the ripple of ribs underneath taut skin. A hazy memory stabbed of how, last night, he'd followed that water-like motion with his just-kissed lips.

"I don't need cake," he said softly, his eyes wandering to a constellation of freckles on L's throat which, from this angle, looked a lot like a hypotenuse triangle. He wanted to press his lips to the brown dots and suddenly it seemed ridiculous that here they were, fully clothed, doing things like looking at post mortem reports which only the day before felt like the most important thing in the world. This was all new. There were so many things he'd never noticed, like that pattern of stars on L's neck and the blue network of veins on the inside of his arms. He wanted to claim them, research them, plot them, and bury himself there.

"Have some cake," L said brightly, sweeping back to Light like a dinner lady on prozac, plate in hand and ruining the mood slightly.

"I don't need any cake," Light replied, irritably. He felt that sense of desolate hysteria sweeping up from his stomach again like a wave.

"Yes, you do," L persisted, cutting into a generous slice with a delicately held fork.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." A mass of black forest gateaux was now hovering in front of Light's mouth.

"For fuck's sake, I don't need your fucking cake!" Light shouted suddenly, clamping his tingling hand over his mouth as he finished. He glanced at the staring audience across the room. His father looked furious just because he'd sworn at L. What would he make of –

The fork dropped from L's hand and clattered on the floor. L spun back in his chair, hunching over even more than usual. Light slowly lowered his hand and tried to judge L's reaction. L never dropped cake. He'd sooner drop a baby.

"I'm sorry, Ryuzaki," Light said. Somehow seeing L rattled made him feel stronger and more at ease and there was something very wrong about that. However, right now he was just grateful that he didn't feel sick to his stomach anymore.

"Light-kun?"

"Yes, Ryuzaki," Light answered, regaining his standard haughty composure.

"We made a mistake, didn't we?"

Light released the breath that he didn't know that he was holding. L was trying to figure this out too and was doing a really bad job of it. There was the sign of weakness which Light had been hoping for.

"That's a matter of opinion," he whispered back. "You know that old joke: 'we did things that are illegal in some countries'?"

"No, I don't. It's not very funny though."

"I never thought that it was funny either, but the thing is, I think that we really did do things that are illegal in some countries."

L smiled. Light returned it.

"Remind me not to work for those countries again," L said.

"I feel sorry for those countries."

"So do I, Light-kun. So do I."


	6. Panic

**Chapter 6**

**Panic on the Streets of London**

_And the words tightening_

_The words are tightening_

_Around my throat and, and_

_Around the throat of the one I love_

_Tightening, tightening, tightening_

_Dear Darkness ~ PJ Harvey_

* * *

_September 1st_

There had been no warning.

V had breathlessly run to HQ describing a call she'd received from an ex-colleague in London who said that there had been an incident in Westminster. A riot in Parliament Square had turned nasty in the early hours of the morning. Policemen had arrived but as they rushed in to form a line of refusal, one by one, they'd dropped to the ground. Dead.

The few helmeted policemen who had escaped the mysterious culling were surrounded, hoarded into fearful circle, and beaten to death by the expressionless crowd.

The huge mass of people progressed across London. Blood spattered on the pavement as they entered the Palace of Westminster and set it alight

Official new reports had been sparse, mostly made of distant shots of burning buildings and blurry footage filmed on mobile phones. Press helicopters had been shot down. Pockets of the country had been targeted and had fallen under the weight of tens of thousands of ordinary citizens. Army bases had been overrun from the inside.

L had been doubled up in his chair more or less constantly for the last 10 hours calling as many contacts within Britain as he could. The cause was still unknown, but what was clear was that the outbreak was widespread. An emergency UN intervention had been organised, but it was clear that any attempt to access or leave the island was prohibited. Ships and planes were attacked and in some cases completely destroyed.

The BBC was still in operation via a radio since television studios were an early target for raids. Latest reports suggested that there had been a series of explosions in the channel tunnel, the link between England and the continent.

The country had, in essence, been locked down with an alarming efficiency, and no one had any idea why.

Light had taken to pacing the area allowed by the five foot distance of the chain while L remained, for the most part, silent. He refused to discuss his thoughts, even privately with Light. He declined communications from world leaders. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot staring at the multitude of split screens showing various world news stations. His silence made everyone agitated because if the world's greatest detective didn't know what the hell was going on, then this was some deep shit.

Light seemed to accept L's silence with understanding but inwardly was growing more and more frustrated at L's mental lockdown. The detective left Light to deflect angry calls from the task force who were desperate for an explanation. Light assured them that the silence was a necessity and by no means a permanent state of affairs, which for some reason they accepted. But then, they didn't really have a choice. As the crisis escalated, people all over the world demanded answers, and there were none.

Gratefully accepting a coffee from Watari, Light rested an arm on the back of L's chair as they listened to an obviously distressed newsreader who spoke over a BBC test card.

"This is BBC News, we apologise but we are currently experiencing some technical problems. We will endeavour to correct the problem as soon possible and normal service be resumed. We may have to go offline temporarily but will broadcast again as soon as we identify the problem. Repeat, this is BB – "

The screen flickered like a blizzard momentarily before being enveloped by a large tarot card; The Tower.

Across the screen, subtitles in various languages tallied with words spoken slowly, confidently, with authority through the speaker.

"People.

"Too long have the citizens of all nations been misrepresented and mistreated. How long until there is peace and security for all. We argue that it is not the individuals who are responsible for the crime, but it is the fault of those in power. They have encouraged the decline of society for too long. Therefore, we ask the heads of state of all countries to resign from their posts to the people. We need them not.

"We have distributed a list of our demands. Please circulate this. Educate the people of the world that they now have hope. If our demands are not met, the media barons, grown fat on their ill-made gains and upon the misfortune of others, revelling in the enforced ignorance of the people – these enemies will be destroyed by Friday 08:00am GMT.

"Then, together we will make the world clean."

The BBC reappeared on the screen along with the the now utterly confused newsreader who stuttered over her words.

L continued to stare at the television before speaking for the first time in several hours. "Watari, please bring us a copy of the recording. I think it's clear that we have a situation although whether it's related to Kira's power is another matter. They want to make the world clean then it could be a cleaning company going global."

L looked to Light. "Too soon?"

"Too soon," Light winced.

"Then, Light-kun, your thoughts."

"It does appear to validate the assumption that this is the work of an underground terrorist group. The emphasis on "we" is obviously not disillusionment considering the number of people required to bring down a country like this. Mass hypnosis, perhaps through drugging the water supply? Subliminally through television?"

"There has never been anything on a scale such as this."

"The Jonestown suicides."

"Nothing more than a cult suicide. The numbers involved for something of this magnitude would discredit a brainwashing scenario."

"They haven't mentioned how they intend to kill these people that they're threatening. It's clear that there have already been many murders. It's almost biblical."

"The wrath of God," L murmured. "Do you think their motivation match the ideals of Kira?" He thumbed his bottom lip. Light stared down at the top of his head, silently.

"They mentioned 'security for all' and 'crime' so maybe it is Kira?" Aizawa said.

"No, it can't be Kira. It's not Kira," L replied. "Admirers. Supporters maybe."

"Endorsed by Kira to take the pressure off and to evade capture?" Soichiro added.

"I don't believe Kira would endorse such a thing. It's not Kira2 either. It's far too professional and the motivation is different. Kira2 was desperate to make themselves known to Kira, this video makes no mention, no illusion to Kira or his method of killing. Besides, murders which could feasibly be attributed to Kira have dropped to virtually nil so there would be no need to deflect attention. However, we cannot ignore that fact that Kira wields the power to control victims before death, though to what extent is not clear. Therefore, the chance that Kira has changed his tactics dramatically, perhaps due to a transfer of power, cannot be discredited."

"If it is Kira, do you think that they're based in Britain because of the targeting of the BBC and the message being in English?" said Soichiro.

"Possibly, but by your own theory, that could be a mask to divert our attention."

"No mention of L, either," Light said quietly.

"Indeed, which corroborates the idea that this is an unrelated group to Kira and Kira2." L said.

Honestly, his ego was of epic proportions. L obviously thought that he and Kira were having a long distance relationship, sending love letters via the TV.

"What do you think?" Light asked, cooly.

"It's clear that it's a terrorist group with political aspirations. They may be based in the UK, they may have support throughout many countries, but it seems that they're testing ground in the UK; an island being easier to isolate and defend. They will bring the government down by the weekend, that is if they haven't effectively done so already. I'd be surprised that most people with significant political influence within the UK have not already been eradicated or have run screaming for the hills. In any case, the threat to media tycoons is genuine. The media coverage was targeted early on and brilliantly so as the full extent of what has happened is essentially rumour. Hopefully they're not as professional as it appears."

"Ryuzaki, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom on on the telephone for you," Watari said, drawing closer.

"Hmmm...interesting," L mumbled, apparently surprised that there still was a Prime Minister to speak to. "Thank you, Watari, put him through on line 1."

Then, L did something strange. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a key which Light never knew he had, and unlocked the metal ring which connected him to Light. The cuff sprung open and L rested it and the key upon his vacated seat before disappearing into Watari's room without a glance backwards.

"Shouldn't we know what's being said?" Aizawa said.

Soichiro turned to him. "He'll inform us when he returns."

Light slowly spun L's empty chair to face him, picking up the abandoned the cuff and key. He held them in his hand as he took L's seat.

"Hey, Light. This looks good. Looks like Ryuzaki might be convinced that you're not Kira after all!" Matsuda said, patting an enthusiastic hand on Light's shoulder.

"Hey, don't get his hopes up," Aizawa warned.

Light stared at the redundant cuff on his wrist, the chain which led to nowhere. It surprised him how bereft he felt.

* * *

"You're releasing Misa and Light?" Matsuda said, incredulous.

"It seems that Kira and Kira2 have disappeared for the time being, which is convenient considering the apprehending of Light-kun and Misa-san. However, all things considered, it would be best to pursue this new threat. Misa-san is free to go although I am bringing in a couple of associates to watch her," L replied.

"You're not going to inform her? She'll just think that she's free!" said Matsuda.

L scratched his head, as if infested with nits. "For all intents and purposes, she will be."

Light glanced at him in disgust but saw no benefit in arguing. Staring back down intently at the transcript of the broadcast.

"Light, you will remain here but as you have already realised, you are can move freely within HQ."

Light didn't react although Matsuda just about did a cartwheel.

"Thank you, Ryuzaki," Soichiro said placing a hand on Light's shoulder. "Light?" he prompted.

"Yes, thank you, Ryuzaki," Light said, pained and through gritted teeth.

"So Light and Misa are cleared!" Matsuda cried. L half expected him to follow it up with a 'huzzah' for good luck.

"No, Matsuda-san. They are not cleared. Consider them on bail. They are not responsible for this coup d'état in the UK, that much is for certain. I concede that."

"Oh, well, that's something!"

* * *

"Goodbye, Misa. Take care and do your best on your new film," Light said dispassionately.

"Goodbye, Amane-san," said L who stood between the two.

"Light, I can't bear it," Misa said tearfully. Ignoring L, she wrapping her childlike arms around Light's torso.

"Yes you can Please, don't make a scene," Light said, patting her on the head and stroking her back. He glanced at L and looked thoroughly pissed off. L was positively beaming which made Light scowl all the more.

"I don't understand why you're staying here and yet Misa Misa is free!" Misa cried.

I have to stay because L likes to have sex with me against cubicle , maybe not mention that.

"I have to stay because I need to work on this case with him," Light explained, "It's important, Misa. It's a world threat. You know this is what I want to do."

"But what about University?" the blonde asked.

"I can do that anytime. I'll just defer my place."

"Oh, Light. I'm so worried."

"I have no idea why."

"I … love you, Light!"

"Oh. Well, be strong, Misa," Light said, pulling himself of her deceptively strong wrap around his waist. "Goodbye, Misa. Maybe one day we can have a coffee sometime, when all this is over."

"Light, what do you mean?" Misa's face, which rarely concealed her extreme and fluctuating emotions, was now draped with hurt suspicion.

"Um, I mean when all this is over," Light repeated with a pained smile, his eyes drawn to L, who still appeared to be most entertained. It was 'Sunday Night at the London Palladium' as far as he was concerned.

"Yes! Yes, Light, when all this is over, then we can be together!"

"Great."

* * *

"Oh, how I hate to part true love's dream," L said dramatically as they followed the sun-bathed maze of corridors back to the office.

"Yeah, I can tell by the look on your face that you're devastated," Light muttered. "Who are you having follow her?"

"An associate," L answered dully.

"This is a terrible breach of human rights," Light reflected, shaking his head.

"Light-kun, you and your human rights. You know well enough that the human rights of one shouldn't get in the way of the rights of many."

"She's not a threat to anyone. You know that. You're only doing this because it suits you. Like how it suits you to have me stay here."

"I must admit, she is incredibly aggravating for so small a person. It'll be a lot quieter without her and I won't have to sit through her humping your legs when she's not strangling you like a boa constrictor. Anyway, Light-kun. I wasn't aware that I was keeping you here completely against your will. I did offer you terms not dissimilar to Amane-san's. I didn't know that you wanted to leave."

"You know that I don't, though I have no idea why. Masochism?"

"Perhaps your enamoured by my wiles."

"Your 'wiles'? You'll have to educate me about those. I'm not sure I've been introduced to any of your 'wiles'. Bearing that in mind, perhaps I choose to stay because of the investigation."

"Yes, I suppose there's always that."

"Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting." Light smiled and bent down to nip at L's plush lower lip. L drew back, his eyes wide and inky. "I said, don't pout," Light repeated.

"I'll try," L promised, the words muffled in Light's shirt lapels as Light started kneading small circles into his shoulder blades.

"The muscles in your back are like granite. You have to stop being so tense all the time and, y'know, maybe stand up straight every now and again," Light reflected.

"My spine cracks."

"I know."

"And my reasoning drops."

"So you say."

"Does it bother you?"

"What? Your ridiculous excuses?"

"No, my posture."

"Or lack thereof. No. Not at all. Why should it?"

"You brought it up."

"I brought it up because your back is murder. It must be painful."

"It isn't."

"It can't be good for you."

"Which concerns you?"

Light paused in his administrations to ask in all seriousness: "Where is this going?"

"I don't know but we have thirty-seven minutes until everyone gets back from lunch."

"Oh," Light smiled. "Who needs a watch with you around?"

"I like your watch. It's like you."

"Expensive, metallic, cold and mechanic?"

L smiled and touched the glass of the watch on Light's wrist tenderly.

"It suits you. The bronze, and the sentiment. It was gift to you and you treasure it. It must be … nice."

"And it works best when it's wound up. We have that in common," Light said nuzzling his neck.

He was grateful when L was like this. He sounded natural and trusting. Yes, Light loved these words best, when they were just L and Light, talking nonsense under tangled sheets or holding each other up in hallways. The soft, revealing little snippets of L's which he'd earned; they were like little trophies of the detective's weakness for him. Often tosh, yes, but they were the thoughts under all the percentages and crime scenes.

"Would you like something Light-kun?"

"Mmmm …"

"Lunch, Light-kun."

"No, I think I'll skip it," Light murmured kissing the soft taut skin behind L's ear.

"Thirty-six minutes."

"Oh dear."

"It's a tragedy."

"It's all a terrible, terrible tragedy and we should do something about it," Light suggested, smiling against the heat rising from the river of veins under L's skin. L didn't reply immediately. His back which was just easing under Light's hands became solid again. When he spoke again, the softness had gone.

"Oh Light-kun, the things you say. Good afternoon, Mogi-san. Where are your trousers?"

Light drew back confused, following L's gaze to see Mogi in his underpants with his trousers slung over one arm like an insane maître d'.

"Uh … your security measures are faulty," Mogi replied. He stood rooted to the spot as if he'd just turned the corner and seen something shocking, like Light swathed around L, pulling down the neckline of his t-shirt exposing and kissing a much loved shoulder.

"Is that so?" L replied, his tone defensive as Light moved a few feet away from him.

"The metal detector kept beeping," Mogi explained. "It happened to Aizawa last week. You said that you'd look into it."

L simply stared blankly. Light found himself suddenly being an onlooker, his eye-line flipping between L and Mogi like he was watching a particularly tense tennis match.

"Am I early?" Mogi asked.

L leaned against the wall taking on a James Dean-esue attitude. A rebel without a clue. "Yes," he replied.

"Oh. Do you want me to go?"

"Yes."

"Ryuzaki," Light chastised. "No, Mogi-san. Your dedication is very commendable. Isn't it Ryuzaki?"

"Vexing but commendable."

"I'll get back to work then," Mogi said stiffly. He eyed L and Light contemptuously as he strode past them. Once out of ear shot L met Light's evening sun eyes.

"Thirty four minutes," he said brazenly.

Light shook his head.

"Did he see?" Light asked, closing his eyes and pressing his fingertips to the sight of the instant migraine which had flared up in the centre of his forehead.

"I should think so."

"Shit," Light exclaimed, turning from L.

"There's a 98% probability that he won't mention it," L said calmly.

"I don't like that last 2%."

"It's not in his best interest. Thankfully, I don't care about his opinion. He'll be angry at me because he'll presume that I'm corrupting you as a new tactic in questioning."

"That sounds like a correct assumption," Light said bitterly.

"Light-kun, that's unfair."

"Everything is."

L's eyes narrowed. "Light, you learned that lesson when you were a child, remember? Life _is_ unfair. You were lucky you realised it so early. My tactics are my own business."

"So this is just a new tactic, is it? Is that was this is?"

"If you want commiseration then you'll have to look elsewhere."

Light stared at L in silence. L regretted his words as soon as they'd left his mouth. He should have been reassuring Light, not stoking the fire.

"Don't patronise me," Light said, his eyes were narrow daggers and his tone was laced with threat.

L looked at the floor, a sad-eyed lie trying to look as unperturbed as possible. There was a tight ball of mortified anger spinning in his chest. Fucking Mogi. He should sack the lot of them.

Light was leaving. He should stop him. It occurred to L that he hadn't expressed a heartfelt apology in his entire life and he could start now. "He'd have no idea how to tell your father if that's what you're worried about," he called after him.

Light stopped in his tracks but didn't turn to face L. "Sounds like you're more worried than I am. I thought that you had more pressing matters to concern yourself with."

On cue - oh, sweet providence - Watari appeared around the corner. He nearly bumped into Light and his glasses flashed silver as he steadied himself for a moment.

"Ryuzaki, a message has arrived in relation to the UK situation!" he said, out of breath.

"Marvellous."

Light had already left. L looked back at the floor. He could feel a planet-sized headache coming on.

* * *

L sat like a frog on a lily pad, glazed eyes running over the film in the office. He'd played the transmission 23 times in full and was now editing sections for closer inspection. The tape was professional and care had been taken not to reveal anything about the origins of the recording. The vocal was in English. It was masked and layered, recorded at least four times by different individuals and merged. L could make out that at least one of the tracks was in Italian. L mused how Misa would have given an arm and a leg for the pre-planning involved in this video when making her own ill-advised and sloppy Kira tapes.

As yet, no one had said anything about the message.

The film opened and closed with a tarot card, VIII – Adjustment. The narration began accompanied by clear subtitles in English and Japanese running across the screen.

"We are a coalition of nations. We are the oppressed. We are the uprising.

"People, rise up and awake! Rejoice. There is no dread hereafter. There is the dissolution. There is death for the dogs. Obtain the order and value of the English alphabet; thou shalt find new symbols to attribute them unto. There is a King concealed but the Letter canst not hurt him. Mercy be left off, damn them. Kill and torture; spare not; be upon them. The best blood is of the moon. Name your enemies, these slay, and they shall fall before you. The Light is a sword in my hand to push thy order. There is a secret door that I shall make to establish your way. The Light is mine. Its flames consume.

"Let the enemies beware. Laugh at their fear, spit upon them. Destroy them. Spread this message to each man and woman that thou meetest. Then they shall chance to abide in this bliss or no.

"We are prophet to protect our master. Success is thy proof. Them that seek to entrap thee, to overthrow thee, them attack without pity or quarter, and destroy them utterly. Swift as a trodden serpent turn and strike! Be thou yet deadlier than he! Drag down their souls to awful torment.

"The King shalt be lifted to the pinnacles of power. I am thy warrior, King. They cower before me and are abased. I will bring you to victory and joy. I will be at your arms in battle and ye shall delight to slay. Success is your proof, courage is your armour, go on, in my strength and ye shall turn not back for any!

"When the mystery of the letter is done. We shall go on to a holy place. It is a fool that heareth this and understandth it not.

"Through him, the first ordeal, and it will be to him as silver. Though the second, gold and the ultimate sparks of intimate fire and to all it will seem beautiful. There is success. My nemesis shrouds the night-blue sky.

"From right to left and from top to bottom and behold! There is a splendour in my name hidden and glorious, and the orb of midnight is ever the son.

"The Law is written and concealed."

L chewed on a thumb. How tiresome. More riddles.

'L, do you know gods of death like apples?'

Despite it's flowery pretensions, this message was as clear as day. It was a direct message to Kira – to Light. Someone knew. The repetition of his name was no accident. They suspected that L, the Letter, had Kira in custody. If he did not release Light, then they would seek to destroy him.

Lovely.

He reached for letter which had accompanied the recording, it simply read, "L, this will be publicly broadcast on the first day of judgement". Running his eyes over it once more, he reached for the envelope in which the video was sent and inspected it from all angles, compulsively turning it over and over in his hands. At length, using a nearby letter opener, he sliced into two folded sides, laying the envelope flat open the table. He carefully unfolded the edges.

"Ryuzaki, what are you doing?" Soichiro said, outraged. "That has to be sent to forensics."

"A moment Yagami-san," L said, holding up a hand.

There, the tiniest characters ran along the edges of the card. On the right edge A - S , on the left, T- R, on the top, AE, and on the bottom, A.

"Astraea," L mumbled to himself.

"What is Astraea?" Soichiro prompted.

"A Greek goddess of justice." L and Light replied in unison. L bit down on his thumb.

"What does this mean?" said Matsuda

L sighed. "It's part of the message. Astraea is the name of this organisation and they believe themselves to be justice," he said, turning to Matsuda as if he was incredibly stupid for not realising this himself. "Matsuda-san, please take this envelope and the original tape immediately to the lab for testing. Have them make scans of the envelope beforehand and email them to me. I especially want a analysis on the ink used in the writing of these letters. Whatever is necessary."

Matsuda reached forwards, picking up the envelope by the edges as if dealing with a particularly gruesome spider, and deposited it back into the discarded plastic sterile cover.

"Ryuzaki?" Sochiro asked.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow morning. Meeting at 7am."

"7am?" Matsuda gasped.

L sighed again. "Don't rush yourselves of course, Matsuda-san, it's only an criminal investigation into the murders of thousands of people and evidence of a terrorist group who may or may not have the abilities of Kira but most definitely uphold him as their leader and have threatened to kill me if I don't comply with whatever they wish. No, no rush, Matsuda-san.."

Matsuda looked abashed not only under Ryuzaki's words, but also under the disapproving eyes of Soichiro. He instinctively drew the envelope of evidence close to his chest, nearly dropping it in panic once he realised what he was doing.

"It's been a long day," Soichiro said, in an attempt to curtail the conversation. "We'll be here at 7am for the briefing."

"Thank you Yagami-san. Perhaps you could bring some coffee and doughnuts with you, Matsuda-san. I have a feeling that it'll be another long day. If you could get here just before 7am then you'll have time to set everything out beforehand and avoid disrupting the meeting. I'd like to start promptly."

Matsuda deflated like a sad balloon. "Yes, Ryuzaki," he mumbled as Soichiro led him out of the room. A few moments later, L rose from his chair.

"Light-kun," L beckoned.

Light was staring at the paused screen. The tarot card of the blindfolded woman in blue and green robes. Her hands firmly grasping the hilt of a longsword. The scales of justice suspended above her and rays of light surrounded her. She was a fearful figure.

* * *

"Rem, you must help me. Tell me what I can do, please!"

"The owner of the Death Note, they may be able to help free Light Yagami."

"Do they support Kira?"

"Yes. They might help free him in return for another Death Note."

"But it's my Death Note!" Misa screamed. It had no effect upon the white monster, so Misa relented. "Oh well, I suppose if it is for Light. We might be able to get them to help us without giving up the Death Note though. You haven't mentioned it to them have you?"

"No."

"I will speak to them!" she pogoed on the spot excitedly. "Rem, tell them that the second Kira wants to … um … discuss official business. That sounds good, doesn't it?"

"It might be dangerous, Misa."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. After all, you'll be there to protect me AND now that I have the eyes, I could kill them on the spot."

* * *

Light was pottering around in the kitchen. It seemed to L that he'd been in there for hours.

The aftermath of their idiotic confrontation the day before was simply that neither of them were able to say a civil word to each other. Light had closeted himself away doing god knows what with kitchen implements while L sat, increasingly despondent, on the bed with two laptops in front of him. At one point he'd bravely ventured into the kitchen for a cup of tea which he was fully intending to make for himself for the first time in, well, ever. But as he crossed the threshold Light's head popped up from below the counter. All the cupboards were open. Was he organising pots and pans? Was he actually alphabetising the cleaning products? Whatever he was doing, his expression was that of a really pissed off wolf. L backed out slowly.

A few minutes later he called Watari to bring some tea to his room. Watari didn't ask any questions. Good.

So, he had tea and computers and his brain. Light was possibly having a psychotic break in the kitchen. And that left the bombshell. Too many questions were buzzing around L's brain and they were all to do with Light. His mind was a unintelligible mishmash of random thoughts strung together with worry:

How does Astraea know of Light? Do they think that he is Kira because they know that I have him on remand? How? Although Light had obviously disappeared, officially he was helping with the Kira investigation; that's what any interested parties were led to believe. Do Astraea they actually _know_ that Light is Kira. How?

The only person he could think of was Misa, but she was busy filming commercials and, in any case, the Astraea videos were beyond her. She couldn't hijack a make-up counter never mind a whole country. Besides, V was trailing her.

Strangely the threat of retribution if L wouldn't release Light to Astraea was not a concern of his. No way in hell. He'd rather die. Really? Well, he was his prime suspect after all, he reasoned. What kind of a detective would he be if he bowed to the least pressure? He wouldn't have got this far if he had fretted about every ultimatum and threat upon his life.

So no, Astraea wasn't going to get what they wanted.

But how _did_ they know Light was Kira? L was beginning to think, no, he knew that he was the only one who suspected Light. If Astraea had come to this conclusion independently then L should feel vindicated, even if they were loony. He didn't though. It felt like he was playing hopscotch but kept ending back where he started.

Then his mobile phone rang. L extracted it from his jeans pocket and held it like a test tube to his ear. Light poked his head around the door. At least L now had proof of life.

"What is it, V?" he said into the cell.

"I've lost Amane."

"What?"

"She went into a department store. I've just found her clothes and the tracker in a changing room."

"This is coming out of your pay."

"I'm looking for her now. She can't have more than ten minutes on me. Can you get a visual for me? 3:11pm she entered the changing rooms of 'One Way", floor 6, Shibuya 109."

L typed his access codes to hack into the camera footage. He was about to throw the phone on the bed in disgust until V broke the painful silence. "I'm sorry, L."

"I've got visual," he replied coldly. "She left the store at 3:17. She's wearing a checked school uniform and a short brown wig and glasses. She's out of the building. She exited at 3:28 and turned left. I'm getting the street CCTV now."

"No need, I've got street visual and I've got her. She's on foot still. I'm on it."

"I'm calling in Wedy."

"She's already on her way. I'll find her, Ryuzaki."

"I suggest that you do," L said, hanging up. He did throw the phone down then. It bounced off the bed and hit the floor, clicking shut with finality. Then he flopped back on the bed with finality.

Light was leaning against the door frame. His arms crossed. Waiting.

"Amane-san has done a moonlight flit … at three in the afternoon," L explained, lying face up like a drowned man.

"I gathered," Light smirked. He actually smirked.

"V's fault," L elaborated.

Light sighed, rolled his eyes and retreated back into the kitchen.

Forty minutes later, V called back to say that she'd found Misa and had taken her back to her apartment. Crisis averted.

* * *

Rem was a very talented, if somewhat oversized, carrier pigeon. A meeting was arranged. Misa slipped into into her favoured schoolgirl disguise in a crowded department store changing room, just in case. Fifteen minutes later, she had arrived at the designated meeting place – a hotel function room of all places.

When Misa entered the room, it was dimly lit. She was faced with a line of twelve veiled figures who sat like death along the length of a table. They were completely covered in black fabric, their faces concealed. There was a small seat some distance away from them, in the centre of the room. Misa made her way to it.

From the line of ominous dark ghosts, the centre figure did most of the talking. Rem was standing behind their chair. Ryuk was behind Misa.

"Thank you for joining us Miss Amane."

They knew Misa's name? The feeling of being a little out of her depth was compounded.

"Rem has conveyed your request to us, and your letter. Interesting and … lengthy."

"It was like a Russian novel," a voice to the left said.

"I liked the sparkly heart stickers on the envelope," said another.

"Enough," the central figure barked, turning back to Misa. "We were expecting to have communications from Kira himself, not through a third party."

"I'm not a third party! I'm the second Kira. I help Kira. Uh, I'm his fiancée."

"Kira's fiancée? How intriguing," said the cold voice from across the table.

Well, in a manner of speaking they were, Misa reasoned. Light just didn't know it yet.

"So, will you help me?"

"I don't see the benefit. You're asking us to infiltrate a building with security higher than most prisons. You want us to kill an entire investigation team including the greatest investigative mind in the history of the world. All this to release a man who, if he is as intelligent as you say he is, surely doesn't need our help," the central figure said, a dark amusement running through their voice. Rem stood behind, her face as blank as ever.

"You ruined it!" Misa screamed suddenly feeling the red heat rush to her face. Ryuk started cackling, his laugh was like a coughing fit.

"Diddums," the shrouded figure replied.

"I know what you did! Rem told me everything," Misa countered, pulling any cards she had left.

"Oh, Rem, you little tattle tale," said the figure, looking over their shoulder at the white pile of bones.

"You murdered Higuchi. He was supposed to have the Death Note, not you. You _stole _Light's Death Note."

"Higuchi made himself conspicuous; we were made aware of him in any case. It was decided to relieve him of the Book. It was no loss, believe us. Not a single tear was shed for that man by any living soul.

"Who owns it now?"

"Miss Amane, this is a democracy. We all own the Death Note. Soon, every person in the world shall."

"That's impossible. Only one person can own it."

"We represents the people. The members of the board, some of whom you see before you now, take turns in the ownership. We judge as one."

"Still, you stole it," Misa said petulantly.

"Miss Amane, perhaps you could help us understand the logic of Kira. Higuchi was by all accounts a terrible, greedy and selfish individual. If Kira _chose_ someone so corrupt, someone purely interested in his own advancement to wield such power, well, we struggle to accept that your beloved Kira is worthy of being the god and justice of a new age. Astraea is true judgement."

"You only have the Death Note because of him!" Misa wailed.

"He is a little boy, and you are becoming a nuisance. I'm not sure if you're aware that we are concerned with more pressing matters at this moment at time. In fact, let's cut this conversation short, shall we?"

"I won't let you push me aside!" Misa leapt to her feet.

"Then I'm sorry to say that we may be forced to dispose of you," the figure said, sinisterly.

"If you kill me, Rem will kill you, won't you Rem?"

"Misa is not to be harmed," Rem reinforced. Heads turned. The ghoul had always been silent, uninterested in what they did or whose lives they took. Her warning was positively terrifying to many in the room.

"Oh really?" the speaker exclaimed. "Interesting. It's clear that Rem does have an attachment to you, that much is clear, but let's not get carried away with ourselves. There are too many threats bouncing around."

"You have to help me," Misa said, the desperation in her voice was in danger of flooding over into hysteria.

"And if we do then you'll relinquish your Death Note to us?"

"I don't have a Death Note any longer."

"Oh, come now, Miss Amane, and you were doing so well. You must know that we don't believe that for a second."

Misa, sat down again. Her voice was steely, "You can have it, but only if I can keep my memories. I want to be useful to Light."

Rem creaked with the scraping friction of vertebrae as she bent to the ear of the speaker.

"What is it, Rem?" the figure asked. Rem whispered, too low and soft, rendering her words completely inaudible to Misa. "She has, has she? Well, this changes matters a little."

"What does?" Misa asked.

The speaker turned to her collaborators. "It seems that Miss Amane has The Eyes. Of course. To have the eyes would be most beneficial to our organisation. Perhaps something could be arranged. Rem, Am I given to understand that Misa would lose her Shinigami eyes should she give up her Death Note."

"Yes,"

"Then she must remain the owner, but loan it to us. You must work for us. Give us the names of certain individuals which I present to you. In return, you will have full protection and we will give your boyfriend his memories back. No more. I wish to see what this boy is capable of."

"But he has to be freed! You have to kill Ryuzaki." Misa screeched.

"Ryuzaki? Do you mean, L? He can rid himself of L. If he can do that, he will have proven himself to us. "

"But -"

"If you don't approve of the offer then I suggest you return to your … wherever," the voice said, dismissively. "Needless to say that I won't kill you since I don't plan to die any time soon. However, if you _do_ make a pain of yourself, I won't hesitate to end your life as we did Higuchi's and though I will die, there are many others who will step in in my stead to obtain your Death Note and continue our great work. Your little life will have been pathetically pointless and the dear, sweet boy will probably end his days in ignorant bliss. So, you see, our offer is kindness itself."

"Please! Please. All right, I'll do it, I'll give you the Death Note. Just please, help Light!"

"Very well, but don't beg. It grates on our nerves. First, I suppose we have to pose a real threat to L."

* * *

A week later and L and Light were still irritable but were making pained efforts to be in the same room without the whole place freezing over.

Mogi had kept what he had or hadn't seen to himself. He didn't want a repeat performance – he'd be more careful when turning corners from now on - but he'd thought better of sticking his nose into other people's business. He had no idea how it could be a good idea for a detective and suspect to grope each other, but he also had no idea how broadcasting it across the office could a good idea either. So he didn't. Also, Light and L were certified geniuses, so he reasoned that they could look after themselves. Yeah.

L's assumption that Mogi hadn't blabbed was primarily based upon the fact that Soichiro had spoken to everyone in a friendly manner. Light told him that he was convinced that Mogi hadn't told anyone because Soichiro hadn't made an attempt to castrate L yet.

"I'll do it," Light said, resigned, reaching for the stack of mail and setting them into neat piles in front of him.

"Thanks, Light!" Matsuda said cheerfully, practically skipping off back to his desk.

L shrugged to himself. For the next few hours there were no sounds besides L's clicking keyboard inputting data, and Light ripping open letters with a letter opener L had offered earlier without a word. He hoped that Light might view it as an olive branch. Apparently, he didn't. But then, it was a knife.

Despite the fact that they had barely spoken since they had received the new Astraea threat, they had had a messy and wordless collision two days afterwards while Light was changing his shirt. Afterwards, L muttered something about how they'd just had "angry sex" and that Misa should have witnessed it as research for her film, but Light had taken on a kind of disillusioned 'Midnight Cowboy_'_ persona. He was positively brimming over with indifferent sex appeal, even after the event. Especially after the event. He grabbed a polo neck jumper to cover the cluster of bruises which he viewed dispassionately in the mirror before leaving. L sat sadly in the bed, feeling a bit cheap.

When L returned to the office, Mogi glared at him brazenly. What was he? Some kind of sniffer dog for sex? The uneasy feeling made it difficult to fake cheerfulness and to make excuses while they found new trysting places. It amused L to realise that despite the removal of the chain and despite their lack of conversation, the pair still ended up following each other around as if the links were still present, even if it was an unconscious act on Light's part.

Light had been given his own room but they still crept across dark hallways and make the beds shared, alternating between two rooms. It was part of the game to see who'd crack first. Who would crawl under cold sheets without a spoken word, and the receiver would lay a kiss on a mouth in compensation for the admission of weakness.

There had been a few moments when L had bumped into Light in the bathroom accidentally-on-purpose which had ended up with being held against cold tiled surfaces, kisses on throats which would inspire envy and bruises on collar bones.

Lying in bed, Light would read a book while L slept, his head on Light's lap. Light ran warm, soothing fingers across L's scalp, raking grooves into the black silken strands. Wrapped in others arms, hours after swallowing each other's little noises, Light said softly, when he believed that L was asleep, convinced by easy breathing, "Let me back."

Because L hadn't been the same since he'd removed the cuffs. Not really. And now, as Light reached down to start on the next box of letters, all was silence. L broke it.

"I think your skills would be better employed elsewhere, Light-kun. Matsuda-san, who has no discernible skills, should endeavour to make himself useful wherever he can," he said, inspecting Light's sculpted profile and how his skin looked softer in the evening.

"It's fine. I don't mind, really. Something might turn up," Light said, ripping into another envelope.

"Unlikely," L said, pinching the corners of a dirty looking envelope and holding it up at arms length. "This one isn't even addressed correctly."

"They're not all like that," Light breathed, grabbing the envelope out of L's hand and reaching for the silver letter opener. "Don't be so discriminatory."

"That's a strange thing to say, coming from you."

"I'm not rising to the bait, Ryuzaki."

"To think that Kira is purely discriminatory."

"_L – _"

Something in Light's voice made L look at him. Light had tensed up, one hand gripping a fistful of shirt fabric at his chest. An open letter lay on the table in front of him.

"Light-kun?" L reached for Light's shoulders, turning Light to face him. Light seemed locked, paralysed; his knuckles white, his face bleached pale and clammy. "Light?" L repeated, he looked towards the dropped letter, when he reached towards it Light grabbed his wrist.

"No!" Light gasped. "L! I can't – " the words were carried on the smallest whisper of air before he slumped forwards into L's arms.

"Watari!" L shouted.

"What happened?" Mogi asked? Standing from his chair.

"Kira –" Matsuda gasped in horror.

"No! No! Not Kira!" L reprimanded, desperately.

"Light!" Soichiro said, palming Light's limp head between his hands. Coming to with the touch, Light opened his eyes and began to struggle. He leaned over the side of his chair and threw up on the floor.

"Ryuzaki, Yagami-san, help me move Light. Everyone, we have to leave the room immediately," Watari shouted. Once everyone had quickly exited the room, Watari imputed commands into the touchpad beside the door. "Ryuzaki, the room has been locked down. Air vents isolated."

"A chemical attack?" Soichiro gasped, staring at Light with the realisation. Light had become a dead weight shared between Ryuzaki and Soichiro, his feet dragging and catching slightly on the carpet in the hallway.

"Oh God, Light's lips … they're blue! I … I don't think he's breathing," Matsuda said hysterically.

Watari looked into Light's face, lifting up one eyelid. "He is breathing. Take him to his room."

When Light opened his eyes again, he was in his bed. His bed, or L's bed? His chest was unbearably tight. He could barely breathe and felt nauseous with the strictness his body had enforced upon him. He didn't feel as seized by panic now, even though his vision was blurred and his eyes stung painfully. Feeling something cool slip over his mouth, he tried to drag some air into his lungs and it seemed slightly easier. Blinking desperately to clear his vision, he caught sight of L and, though definition was blurred, he could still see the pale and stricken expression. L hadn't proved that he had a face which could display absolute concern, but he did show a kind of unquantifiable affliction. It was a fearful look, as if he didn't quite know what to do. Light's chest tightened again at the sight of him.

Light wondered idly whether L had ever felt that before; not knowing what to do. The strange calm came with a cool breeze which rushed over his skin as he tried to breathe it into himself. Then, just as suddenly as before, that dreadful lurching feeling, everything distorting like shattering glass as he vomited again. He heard L call for Watari - well he thought he did - and he smiled. A couple of seconds later he felt a cool hand pressed to his forehead. The hand felt slightly dry and leathery on his own warm, damp skin but the relief of it's chill brought him around again.

"It's fine," Light slurred waving his hand in front of his face, trying to pull what he now realised was an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. "I just felt a bit, uh. Things swayed. Did you see that? The room. What was it an earthquake? Is everyone … ok? Dad? What about Mum and Sayu? Why don't you tell me? Hey, what's wrong with you? L? What's wrong?" As his anxiety peaked and he felt another great urge to throw up but mercifully he blacked out before he could do so.

L stepping towards Light, but Watari was already holding the boy with Soichiro, pulling his limp head back to open his airways.

"Ryuzaki, please soak a towel in some cold water," Watari asked, calmly. L rushed to the bathroom and ran a cold tap over a hand-towel, noticing his shaking hand first, and then watching the blue cloth darken as it became saturated with water.

"Ryuzaki, the towel, please," Watari called.

L snapped to, wringing out the cloth and bringing it to Watari who had dragged a sheet and blankets over Light. He plucked the wet towel from L's hand and started dapping Light's forehead.

L watched as Light reacted to the coolness, shifting his head slightly to one side. "What's wrong with him, Watari?" he asked timidly.

It'd been a long time since he'd been asked a real question by L.

"I don't know, Ryuzaki. Here, hold this to his head." L reached forwards and took the damp cloth. "Yagami-san. Perhaps it would be best if you left for the moment while I treat your son." Despite Soichiro's protestations, he was convinced by Watari's gentle manner that he should leave with the others. Watari seemed to inspire trust, even in the most dire of situations. "L, what happened?" he asked once they were alone. "Did he eat or drink anything? Has he complained of feeling ill?"

"No, no. He was fine..." L started, but suddenly, with a dawning realisation, his eyes unclouded and he turned to face Watari. "It was the letter. He was opening a letter. He tried to stop me from touching it before -"

"Stay with him," Watari ordered, rushing to the investigation room.

L stood for a moment, a sodden cloth in his hand. He slowly drew closer to the feverish boy and gingerly pressed the cloth above Light's right eye. Light turned his face towards L's hand and L could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was burning.

His mind was unusually quiet but it was hard for L to focus as he forced himself to try and understand what had happened. All correspondence was thoroughly screened before it reached headquarters. He had developed the system himself. Nothing could have slipped through. But how else could this be explained?

"Light?" he said softly, as if Light could answer every question if only he'd wake up.

Watari came back carrying a bag which L recognised as a medicine bag had Watari always had in his possession. L had only seen it twice in his life; once when he was ill with pneumonia just after he first arrived at Wammy's House, and again when A -

"There's a residue on the letter. I think that he may have inhaled a small amount." Watari said, as if it was such a simple thing.

"Residue? That can't be. The mail is irradiated."

"I don't know, Ryuzaki, but that's what it appears to be. Some kind of nerve agent."

"I don't understand." L said in disbelief.

"Ryuzaki, you have to leave."

"No. I can't. What are you doing?" he spluttered as Watari prepared a hypodermic from a phial. That bag, the sight of Watari with that bag filled L with dread. He associated it with pain and death - its coarse, weathered texture and the clinking of bottles within. Those cold steel instruments and brutal looking needles.

"I'm administering penicillin and then I'll set up a glucose and saline drip. If it is bacterial then this is the appropriate antidote," Watari explained.

"But what if it's not bacterial?" L asked. He was panicking and it was obvious in his voice.

"I think it is."

"But what if you're wrong?"

"L," Watari said sombrely. "L, you have to calm down. Leave Light with me. You have to wash and destroy your clothing in case you're carrying any traces of the containment. Are you listening?"

"Yes. Yes, Wammy," he whispered, forgetting himself.

"I'll call for you and Yagami-san soon. I've arranged for one of our contacts to determine the strain and decontaminate the room. They should be here shortly. If you can inform Mogi-san and make sure that they are let inside." Then he gently gripped L's wrist. "He'll be all right, L."

L nodded and somehow his feet took him from the room without really realising. He placed his clothes in one of the hazard bags which were provided in the showers for this very reason. Indeed, this sort of attack was expected, but in truth, L thought that his preventative measures were enough. The guilt and worry he felt were overwhelming. Minutes later, in the shower, he grimaced as he pressed his back straight against the cold tiles. Afterwards, having redressed, he sat with the other team force members, all rather comically dressed in bathrobes while the headquarters was fumigated. The letter had reportedly been taken for analysis. No word yet on Light. No sign of Watari.

When Watari did finally appear, he beckoned Soichiro to follow him. Some time after that he returned alone.

L's heart lurched as Watari approached.

* * *

**A/N **You'll never know how desperate I was to start the first terrorist broadcast with, "Hey, dudes. What up?"

Most of the Astraea video text is taken/altered from _The Book of Law_ by Aleister Crowley. Quite a scary piece of writing. If you google it, someone has posted the whole thing online. It's quite short, thankfully. Unlike this chapter.


	7. Boyfriend in a Coma

**A/N** Let's see how many ways I can attempt to kill Light and rip L's heart out with a meat hook.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Boyfriend in a Coma**

_Girlfriend in a coma, I know, I know, it's serious_

_There were times when I could have murdered her_

_But you know, I would hate anything to happen to her_

_No, I don't want to see her_

_Do you really think she'll pull through?_

_There were times when I could have strangled her_

_But you know, I would hate anything to happen to her_

_Would you please let me see her_

_Let me whisper my last goodbyes_

_I know, it's serious  
_

_Girlfriend in a Coma ~ _The Smiths

* * *

"Thank God. It looks like good news," muttered Mogi as Watari drew closer.

"Light should make a full recovery," Watari said with a crinkled smile. "Thankfully, it appears that he only inhaled a very small amount of the contaminant. His reaction was quite extreme but I assure you that there shouldn't be any lasting effects since he was treated so quickly." He turned to L and his smile dissipated, "It would seem that this is not luck. It's clear that intention of the sender of the letter was not kill. The strain of bacteria is such that its effects are restrained to nausea and short-term respiratory difficulty."

"You mean to simply temporarily physically incapacitate someone on the task force? So it's a message … or a warning," L said sourly. "When do you expect the letter and envelope to be available to us?"

"Perhaps by tomorrow afternoon."

"As soon as possible," L insisted.

Watari nodded in affirmation. "Ryuzaki, perhaps it would be best if the task force were sent home."

"Yes. Of course. We'll contact you all in the morning," Ryuzaki agreed before stumbling off.

"Ryuzaki. Yagami-san wishes to stay with his son tonight," Watari said, pointedly. It didn't take a master's degree to work out where L was heading.

"Oh, I understand. I'll be staying here. We've already lost enough valuable time," L said irritably.

"I'll have a computer set up here."

"Thank you. That would be best."

* * *

How many hours had passed, L wasn't quite sure, but somehow every second lurched forwards more slowly and painfully than the last. The eerie quiet was deafening and he felt quite exposed in the unfamiliar surroundings of this place he'd built.

L sensed her before she spoke.

"Ryuzaki, I'm sorry, I just heard."

"V. How did you get in? The building is in lockdown."

"I noticed. L, I'm the highest paid infiltrator in the world. I knocked and Watari let me in," she smiled. "What are you, paranoid now?" V said, slipping down next to L on the leather couch, spreading herself out like a swastika.

L didn't answer but hid the bottom half of his face against the flat backs of his hands. Wide, staring eyes giving the impression of a frightened child. "Who is watching Amane-san?" he asked. At least part of his brain was working.

"Wedy is slitting her wrists from the boredom of watching her paint her nails as we speak," she answered, offering L a coffee. Starbucks. Jesus, things must be bad. He flinched and turned his face away. The scent of the violently sweetened coffee was too pungent, like wet earth.

V set the cup down on the table along with a bag of doughnuts. "You know, Matsuda is worse than a gossip paper," she said breezily, trying to break the tension of the room.

"He rang you?" L asked, knowing the answer before it was given.

"Of course he did. So, what happened?" The way she asked was as if it was just a case of their football team being kicked out of the league.

"I don't understand it yet."

V blinked as if trying to comprehend L not comprehending something. "What do you know so far?"

Facts. L could do facts. "There was a chemical attack. One of the letters contained an agent which got through our screening system. I presume that it was Astraea."

"How?"

"That's the part I don't understand yet."

"So Light opened the letter," V said. "I didn't believe it when Matsuda told me. I could hardly make sense of what he was saying anyway because he's like a babbling brook once he gets going but I still don't believe it. It's the Wammy screening system isn't it?"

"Of course."

V was silent for a moment. "And Light?" she asked at length.

"He's under observation. His father's with him."

"Thank God for Watari. Is there anything I can do?"

"What do you know of chemical warfare?"

"Less than you, I'm sure," V said, leaning back, her hair draped over the leather backrest. "I've only been involved with a case of it once: an attack on a Russian embassy in Chechnya some time ago. We were completely unprepared for it. Lost one man, the rest of us managed to get out in time."

"I haven't seen or heard of anything so virulent. The effects were immediate,"

"But he's all right," V said, more of an assurance than a question.

"You didn't see him," L replied.

"L," V said lightly, placing a hand on his arm, "these things happen. You're running an investigation which is not supported by everyone. You're not the most popular person in the world. It probably is Astraea but it could just as easily be some nutter - some pro-Kira chancer and luck just has happened to have been on his side and the letter got through the screening. Where's the letter anyway? I might be able to pull a favour from someone who could look into it for you."

"It's being disinfected. I should get some results back tomorrow."

"Right. Well, maybe I should get to the labs and chivvy them on a bit," V said over the sound of leather upon leather as she pulled herself forwards to extricate herself from the couch.

"It wasn't meant to kill. It was a warning," L mumbled.

"L, what about you? Have you been checked over?"

"Yes, I … Light, pushed me away."

"So you wouldn't get infected," V stated the obvious that L hadn't been able to process yet. He'd been skirting around the issue, forcing himself to try and think about other things; more technical and important questions. Still, it nipped at his ankles like nettle stings.

"Why would he do that?" L asked, confronting the matter at last.

"You mean working under the presumption that he's Kira? Do you think that he has some links outside that could have done this to make him appear innocent?" V returned, taking on an aggressive Scrappy-Doo attitude.

"I don't know. There's no evidence to suggest that he has been involved in such a plot, " L admitted.

"Maybe he just didn't want you to be hurt. There's always that." When L didn't respond, V narrowed her eyes with concern, "L, listen to me. You're worrying me. I've never seen you like this and it's not pretty so please, snap to, ok? I know that you're not especially exuberant but you're verging on being a lobomy patient here."

L looked up at her. Like him, she found it difficult to be a comfort; it wasn't her area of expertise. Not that he wanted comfort. It was just a thick mist to wrap around someone to prolong and perpetuate their debilitation. She'd indulged him but he responded better to her bluntness. She looked down upon him like a scolding mother. It wasn't often that he was struck by the fact that she was actually older than him.

"This is my fault," he said. "I keep going over the protocol but I know those letters were irradiated twice. We could all have died. Light could have …"

"No matter how well set up a system is, errors can't ever be ruled out. You shouldn't blame yourself. Just focus on what went wrong. Someone managed to infiltrate the system. Start there, work backwards. You can do this."

"Will you study the letter and results with me tomorrow?" L asked, dark pools focusing in on her blue eyes like night sky and water.

"Of course I will," she assured, with a soft smile, "Now, get some rest. There's nothing to be done until tomorrow in any case."

"It seems to obvious that this is a diversion. The deadline for the media cooperation is tomorrow."

"L, please."

"Your friend in London, have you managed to contact her again?"

"No, I told her to head for Wammy's, I hope you don't mind. I didn't realise that the riots were so widespread. It … it doesn't look like she made it," she said, sadly. She dragged up the zip of her jacket all the way up her throat like a noose.

"I'm sorry, V. You should go home. If you _could_ put pressure on the lab that would be most appreciated. There is work I can continue with in the mean time."

"Are you just procrastinating through work so you can avoid thinking about him?" V asked, thumbing a silver sickle shaped charm on her bracelet.

"What?"

"About Light."

"What?" L repeated.

"Well, he's your friend isn't he? Weird set up, I grant you, but you're friends, right?"

"Yes. Yes he's my first friend."

V smiled. She'd always treated and thought of L as a friend but she was aware that he viewed people merely as associates and bringers of cups of tea and that was just the way it was. You could be his friend, but he wouldn't be yours. "L, are you in love with him?"

L turned his large eyes to hers, searching her out, seeing if it was safe. "I … I feel strongly for him but I can't fathom it. These emotions are alien to me," he said, the words sounding as sterile as a bucket of bleach.

"Silly! They're alien to everyone. You're not made of stone. Love is an incomprehensible thing. That's what they say anyway," she said, smacking him on the arm in a congratulatory manner, which was odd considering the circumstances.

"It's weakening. Most of the time we argue or we don't talk at all. He says things and his eyes say something else and everything is conflicted and distracting. Most of all it's inconvenient. My judgement is clouded, rendering me almost useless. I cannot allow that."

"Do you really believe that he is Kira, L?" V asked him, immediately wishing she hadn't, but she felt that he'd led her to this point. He wanted her to voice the words for him.

Moments passed and they let them. The room seemed emptier and L seemed even more alone than before V came in.

"Yes. Yes, I do," L said at last, staring blankly ahead.

V placed her hand over his.

* * *

Astraea.

"They want you to know that it was them. Cocky," V said, turning over the envelope in her hands and inspecting the tiny stamps on the inside tabs.

"Foolhardy, more like," said Wedy.

"It can't be denied that a personal attack like this is a declaration of war," Aiber said through a thick accent.

"Ok, send me somewhere, L. What can I do?" V said, looking agitated, her fists clenching like she was going to punch the wall or a person. Whichever was closest.

"We need to track down where it was posted from, surely and work from there?" Wedy suggested.

"I think we should call them out. Hold a broadcast," Matsuda said bravely.

"No. That's stupid, Matsuda," V said.

"Yeah, that's a bit antagonistic," Wedy agreed.

That's it, gang up on Matsuda, the office punch-bag.

"Mmmm, 'have a go if you think you're hard enough'. Nah, not good," Aiber said, taking the envelope from V.

"But that's what L does! Remember when he called out Kira and proved that he was in the Kanto region? Remember?" Matsuda exclaimed jumping up from his seat, an arm outstretched like he'd just finished singing a stirring aria in a terrible musical.

L walked past Matsuda, paused for a moment, extended his agile leg with the effortlessness of an Argentinian tango dancer and kicked the enthusiastic detective sharply in the shin.

"You kicked me!" Matsuda shrieked.

"Yes, and if you insist upon talking, I will kick you again," L mumbled on his way out the door.

* * *

L sat crouched on the chair watching the gentle, even rise and fall of Light's chest as he slept. Light's hair draped to one side of his face as he turned towards the detective in his sleep. L was thankful that that distressed hitching of breath had eased. Watching Light struggle for life was just a horrible memory he could try and forget.

The boy looked so flat on that cruel white bed. The sheets were stretched too tight across, pinning him into place like an exotic butterfly. Light had slept for three days since the accident. At first through the help of Watari's sedatives in an IV, and then, once he had submitted, his body resisted waking again until fully recuperated.

L took the opportunity to visit when Soichiro was finally convinced that his son was stable and making a fine recovery. Watari advised that he should go home to his family and rest. Since then, L had taken up residence at Light's side. Somehow thinking was easier with the nearness of him.

He hadn't decided what to do about the Astraea situation. His immediate reaction was to, well, hold a broadcast and accuse them of evil and dare them to attack him again because he wouldn't rest until he had destroyed them. Hang on, wasn't that Matsuda's suggestion? Lord. L thought that it was just as well that his mind wasn't so abstract that couldn't recognise a knee-jerk reaction when he saw one. Instead, he had to think of a better plan, or else wait for Light to wake up and find out what he wanted. Yes, come on, Light, Wakey wakey.

If Light asked for their heads on a platter, L worried that he would be sorely tempted to oblige. Because he still had him. Everything else was falling rain.

* * *

Light awoke struggling as if he was a videotape which had been released from pause. He violently fought against an unknown restraint, continuing where he'd left off last time he'd been conscious: flailing against the sensation of drowning. An IV had been ripped from the crook of Light's elbow before Soichiro pressed his arms into the mattress. Simply seeing his father's face was enough to stun Light back into submission. The first thing he saw was Soichiro grimace against the gory needle and the thin trickle of his son's blood pooling upon the white blankets.

L was the last of the cortège of HQ staff (including the cleaners, to whom Light was a favourite) who trooped in to visit Light once it was common knowledge that he's come back to the land of the living. Everyone was strangely sombre with tight, forced smiles and jovial slaps on Light's shoulder as if he'd just won a medal of some kind. Light couldn't help but feel like the incorruptible body of a saint, propped up in bed while people filed past. He did, however, notice L skulking near the door looking like he was wishing that the ground would swallow him where he stood.

The attack or anything related to Astraea was avoided. When Light inquired about the situation in the UK, everyone averted their eyes to the window and Matsuda forced some grapes into Light's lap in desperation. At last, a group decision was almost telepathically made that they should let Light sleep because apparently he hadn't done enough of that yet. As the suits vacated the room, their faces sore from smiling, the door closed and revealed L who was pressed up against the wall like a spectre.

"I was wondering whether you'd do anything stealthy," Light joked, apparently impressed. He placed the mountain of grapes and other sick-people-food onto the bedside table.

"I just hid behind the door," L said, shrugging. His voice was scratchy from underuse. "I was simply being furtive."

"It was a bit sinister. It reminds me of 'The Omen'," Light said, crossing his arms and relaxing a little against the buttress of pillows behind him. L stared at Light blankly. "Y'know," Light coughed and L tensed as Light tapped a palm to his sternum, "like you're the mad nanny and I'm Lee Remick."

"I don't understand you. Please elaborate. What did the mad nanny do to Lee Remick?" L asked, still rooted to the spot.

"She pushed her out the hospital window. But Lee Remick did a lot of falling in that film so it wasn't very surprising."

"Oh. I'm not going to defenestrate you, Light-kun," L said, shuffling closer.

"Well, that's a relief," Light smiled weakly, "although right now I don't think that I'd put up much of a fight."

"How are you feeling?"

"Death, nuked in a microwave for a few seconds. Tepid."

"Ah."

"I'm joking, Ryuzaki. I'm alright." He watched L crawl into the chair next the bed. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Light asked, fixing his eyes on L's who instantly tried to avoid his gaze. "Yes? No?" Light prodded. "Is anyone going to tell me? It's just, I'm kind of intrigued as to why I woke up with a pipe up my nose. That and the fact that my room's been turned into a medical wing," Light said, giving off more than a whiff of irritation.

"Your father was insistent that the incident was not to be mentioned," L explained.

"Oh, ideal," Light sighed.

"It is for the best, for the time being. You should focus on -"

"Sitting in bed?" Light interrupted. "Why is everyone treating me like a baby? More to the point, why are you treating me like a baby?" Light said accusingly.

L raised his eyes to meet Light's whose pale skin and indignation made his eyes look like burning embers. Maybe L had just forgotten the vibrancy of their colour after four days of not having seen them. His mouth felt inexplicably dry.

"You. I thought that you were dying," he faltered, like he'd just pulled out a painful thorn from his side only to have it replaced by another. He couldn't help but be hurt by Light's attitude. The fact was, L had no idea how he was feeling himself, so why should he expect Light to understand? Part of him was incensed with Light and expected an apology for nearly dying and worrying the heart out of him. This was clearly ridiculous. L bit a tiny square of flesh out of the tip of his thumb: the metallic taste of blood on his tongue placated him.

Light felt awkward in sympathy to L's awkwardness. His heart seemed to lurch forward at seeing L look so small, crumpled up and hiding. He smiled and shifted briefly brushing his fingers against the back of L's prone hand.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I worried you, but I don't need to be wrapped in cotton wool, you know. I have some idea what happened. I was there after all. The letter I opened contained some spores or some other kind of irritant. I presume that it was a gift from Astraea? I hope you've made some progress while I've been out. What about the threat to the media?"

L lazily dropped his head to one side, breaking off from chewing on his finger to answer. "They complied, of course, days ahead of the deadline. It was all over the internet anyway. That wasn't the point of the threat anyway, the point was to get the media to surrender to them. Anything now reported from within the UK is obviously strictly regulated. Their TV stations are back in operation but they're nothing more than official propagandist channels."

"You're not thinking of going over there are you?" Light asked.

"No, I suspect that a great deal of Astraea's operations are being conducted from within Japan. In any case, the airspace is still locked down so it would be most difficult to gain entry, even if Watari pulled out all the stops. I have contacts within the UK who are keeping me informed but it seems they are kept as ignorant as the rest of the world, for the time being."

"You think that this is Kira?"

"It may in all likelihood be related. Both Kira and Astraea are concerned with putting in place a new regime of sorts. The creation of a new world willed by God. There is definitely an element of control involved. Kira arrogantly exhibited the ability to control victims before death. Then there's always the deaths of the police force at Parliament Square that night. It does suggest Kira, or the power of Kira in any case. The country has been taken from the inside, like maggots in an apple."

"But some of police who were killed were in full riot gear. Kira would need to see their faces in order to kill them. Unless … unless that information was already in their hands beforehand."

"Yes, which wouldn't be at all surprising since this event was faultlessly preplanned. The similarities are too closely related to discredit Kira, although whether the same individual is responsible is another matter," L said. "Anyway, Light-kun, in terms of the incident here, your assumptions are correct. Astraea claimed responsibility for the attack."

Light had averted his eyes to his hands once L started discussing the attack. His sigh broke the silence that followed. "You shouldn't have stayed here. You could have been infected if it had been airborne." He suddenly felt some need to relieve the oppressive feeling in the room. "What would have happened to the investigation if something happened to the great L?" The awkward laugh he released stopped abruptly.

"Oh, yes. The investigation," L said, sadly.

"Are you sure that you're ok, L?" Truly, L looked worse than he did, which was saying something.

"Physically I'm quite well. A second blood test confirmed it this morning."

Light nodded subtly, settling his gaze to his clasped hands on his lap.

"And the rest of the team, including Watari, are also unaffected," L continued.

"We're very lucky then," Light said, closing his eyes briefly in thankful acknowledgement.

"Lucky?" L asked.

"Yes, I mean it could easily have," he broke off when he caught sight of the blackened blistering on his fingertips.

"A serin strain," L said devoid of emotion. "Enough to incapacitate whoever opened the letter and to make an impression but the note inside shows that the real intent was to scare me into submission, not to kill." He noticed Light staring at the black scorch marks on his fingers and thought it best to explain. "Your fingers will heal, they shouldn't scar. It's just from when you opened the letter. Some of the residue of the serin where it came into contact with your skin and -"

"I know what it is." Light's eyes burned at the memory of opening the letter. The feeling as his chest felt stretched taut. The drowning.

"Light?" L prompted. Worry was etched into his face. Even his hair drooped with sadness.

Light smiled. "Great way to draw attention, huh? When flowers just aren't enough," he joked, reaching for a glass of water.

"Why would someone want to send me flowers, Light-kun?" L asked blankly.

"It's a joke, Ryuzaki. A bad one. It's just, I can't … I don't want to think about it at the moment. I thought I could but -"

"Of course. Which would explain your resorting to humour," L said. Light stared at him. L took it as a hint for elaboration. "You're employing the use of humour as a coping mechanism."

"That's what people do." Light said simply in his defence. How strange it sounded. He suddenly felt very blessed that this was the first major traumatic experiences of his life. Everything had gone swimmingly, cleanly and without incident and it had left his heart as barren as a field of salt. Everything he'd ever done was effortless, well, apart from trying to convince L that he wasn't Kira. Anything to do with L. The feeling of being vulnerable, the thought that he could have very easily died was a fascinating feeling: unique and scented.

"It would be understandable considering what you went through. Light?" L prompted.

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

L's eyes took in Light. Gold frosted his hair were the sunlight touched it. Unnecessary gilding, L thought.

Suddenly it all came tumbling out, "I'm sorry Light. I am at fault. I developed the screening system for mail and it was flawed. I have forced you to be with me at all times which by association puts you in danger due to the nature of my work."

Light looked uncomfortable and L felt all the more guilty. In situations like this, the ill party should be comforted and held. L should be a tower of strength and instead he was revealing his crumbling foundations - how shaken he was and Light didn't have the resources to deal with it, but he tried by falling back upon drilled in politeness.

"It's not your fault, Ryuzaki. I asked to be part of the team. Don't, um, blame yourself or anything. Really."

"Thank you. But I am responsible."

"You're not. It happened. It's a message and we'll use it to find Astraea and bring them to justice … and all that," Light said.

"Yes, they shall feel my wrath," L managed a half smile, the brightness of which, though pinched at the edges, brought some semblance of colour to his monotone face.

"Poor them," Light sympathised.

"Indeed."

"I'd like to help," Light said firmly, apparently expecting an argument about the matter.

"There's no need, Light-kun. You must rest now."

"I'm fed up of resting, Ryuzaki. I hate it in here. I feel... Well, what use am I in here?"

L opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it, dropping his gaze back to his hands again.

"Hey," Light said softly covering the tight, wringing mass of hands as L tried to tie them into knots. L looked up, liquid carbon eyes.

"Hello," Light said, smiling.

"Hello," L smiled back.

* * *

Light wasn't allowed back to the office per se, but L did allow him to move back into his room - that is to say, _their_ old bedroom. He muttered vague explanations about the same four walls, antiseptic, bad memories, bad lighting and whatnot to Watari and Soichiro as he wheeled Light the short distance between the rooms. L said he'd take Light's room instead. Of course he had no intention of doing so.

Light set up camp on their bed in black silk pyjamas and spread out photo prints across the bed. The laptop lit his face. Despite physically taking a battering, undimmed intelligent flashed through his intent eyes. L sat almost normally in a chair across from the golden boy. If ever there was a Kodak moment.

"I knew it." Soichiro said, marching into the room unannounced. His alien presence in their little sanctuary set them on edge immediately. It was the ease by which he entered which was most disturbing.

"Dad," Light started.

"You're supposed to be resting," Soichiro said tenderly, brushing a large hand under Light's hair to check his son's temperature. "I think it'd be best if you came home, just for a little while." His voice boomed over Light's attempt to protest, "AND I KNOW what you'll say but it's for the best. Besides, your Mother and Sayu would love to see you."

Light's eyes flickered to L's. Help.

"Yagami-san, Light-kun is still in need of monitoring and medication. Also, I don't believe that the travel would be beneficial. Here there is tea, cake, peace and quiet. And yes, we have lots of medication. Did I mention that?" L said, completely grasping at straws. Light sighed. Soichiro didn't buy it either.

"Dad, really, I'd rather stay here for now. I've just woken up and … and, I'd rather see Mum and Sayu when I'm well. I mean, what would they think if I turned up like this?" Light said, gesturing to his splendiferous self which Soichiro was expected to believe was looking a bit worse for wear.

"That's true. He does look awful," L agreed, noticing Light glaring at him. "I'll be down in a minute and I'll bring these with me," he assured Soichiro, reaching over to collect the computer and photographs which surrounded Light like a fairy circle. "You are very naughty, Light-kun," he remarked, devilishly, especially considering that he was the one who had furnished Light with the things in the first place.

Light and L both smiled the same inane smile at Soichiro, who apparently couldn't fight both of them.

"All right. But I mean it, you have to rest, Light. No more of this," he said flicking some of papers in L's arms. L flinched.

"No, Dad," Light answered sweetly.

Soichiro returned a defeated smile, swept an almost-glare to L and left the room. And once the door had snapped shut, L turned to Light.

"What a liar you are, Light-kun," he said, collusively.

"I didn't lie. I said 'No', as in 'No, I'm sorry but I can't do that,'" Light grinned. L's smile fell. His features darkening as he placed the pile of papers back onto the bed. "I know what you're thinking," Light said, grabbing L's sleeve as he was about to leave. "And you're wrong. L, please, even if you think I've lied about everything else - when I was with you, I was never lying."

The darkness lifted. L leaned down into Light's arms with cautious gestures filled with longing and gratitude. Pushing burnished hair aside, he kissed the exposed blue veins of temples above arching eyebrows. His finger ran along a sharp cheekbone before he pressed his lips to it and felt Light lean into the touch. He felt the flight of skin and silk over his back as hands travelled underneath his t-shirt. Light kissed the indentation in L's throat in the memory of the pearls of sweat which would pool there in the nights when he was above and around him and became him.

* * *

Light gazed lazily at his arm hooked around L's shoulders, noting the difference in colour. L seemed so incredibly pale, almost marble-like. His own skin looked more tanned for L's presence, despite the fact that by his own standards he was probably the palest he'd ever been since he so infrequently saw daylight. Then there was that whole nearly dying thing as well.

"Your skin is like a consumptive poet's. You must be Russian, or French. Maybe you're the spawn of Byron or Shelley or some other fella in a garret somewhere. Where does this skin come from?" Light said, his lips hovering over the shining globe of a shoulder.

"A consumptive poet. What a compliment," L considered, Light's oh-so very random ramblings were fast becoming one of his favoured forms of entertainment. How he had missed it while Light had lain silent in that horrible room, and before then, when they'd all but stopped talking altogether.

"Ha! No, it's just you're so pale. I just wondered. I said it without thinking."

"I don't believe that Light-kun _can_ say things without thinking," L mused.

"Well?" Light wasn't giving up.

"You know that I can't tell you," L said, with a hint of sadness.

"So I'm not allowed to ever know anything about you? Even now?"

"It would be better for both of us if you didn't."

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. Don't give me any ammo." Light muttered, sarcastically. If he was irritated, he didn't show it, but maybe he was just too content and loose limbed to do anything apart from plant a kiss above L's heart.

L sighed and relented, "I was born on the continent."

"Could you be a little more vague?" Light replied.

"I don't understand you."

"The continent is not specific. I'd rather you told me nothing rather than that. It's like saying that you were born on Earth. Although that statement in itself is hard to believe sometimes." Light smiled. It was one of those glowing smiles which he only gave to L.

"Ah, I see you're being facetious," L said tonelessly.

"Mmmm," Light agreed, forcing his face almost shyly back into L's chest.

Some seconds passed as L weighed up some likelihoods before reeling off various facts as if he was reading the shipping forecast, "I _was_ born in Russia, I believe. So well done with your hypothesis, Light-kun. My father was from Northwest Europe. He was probably not a poet and certainly not Lord Byron although he might very well have been consumptive. The thinking is that my mother was probably of East Asian and Russian extraction, certainly of the former Eastern Bloc, but to be more specific would be conjecture since geographic origin testing is unreliable. Perhaps I should work on that some day."

Light drew himself upwards a little, his interest peaked. As he did, he put his hand in something sticky. God, what a messy business. He wiped his hand quickly over the bedsheets as he turned his attention back to L. He had honestly not expected L to answer his questions at all. This was a revelation. It felt like progress and he wasn't going to be distracted by bodily fluids.

"You don't know who you mother was?"

"I haven't had much interest in researching it. There is no value in it after all," L explained matter of factly.

"No value in it? Ryuzaki, you're so cold about it. You mean you have absolutely no interest in who your parents were? Your heritage?" Light was incredulous.

"There is some research which is ongoing but I have had very little participation in it myself. As I said, what real good would come of it when my time and resources could be better spent elsewhere," L stated simply, distracted by the undulating line of Light's jaw.

Light blinked in disbelief. He couldn't imagine someone _not_ caring or having even the vaguest interest, especially since L's abilities would mean that, if he chose to put his mind to it, he could find out whatever he wanted without breaking a sweat. How strange for a man who dedicated his life to solving mysteries but couldn't bring himself to be interested in his own. Light wondered whether the reason he hadn't shown any interest, as he said, was more to do with how personal the case would be and personal equals turbulent. Or, maybe he liked being an enigma, even to himself.

"But someone is looking into it for you?" Light asked.

"Not at my request. It's part of research into the capacity of certain individuals. Perhaps in time you could also be considered a candidate."

"Really? You mean when I'm proved innocent? Maybe they'd be more interested in me if I was Kira," Light laughed, falling back into place beside L.

"Perhaps."

"The mind of a killer," Light gasped dramatically, his hand gesturing along an imaginary board with his name in lights. Jazz hands.

"Don't joke about it, Light. I don't want to think of Light-kun in terms of numbers right now," L said firmly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does it make me more or less likely of being Kira in your warped little brain? What are the numbers now? What's the percentage? Which, by the way, I think you pull out of your arse because I can find no logic behind them."

"Well, Light-kun is very perceptive. The numbers I give may or may not be an entirely accurate reflection of my findings."

"That's L-speak for 'Yes, I'm pulling the numbers out of my arse.'"

"Not so. I have no numbers up my … arse," L said with some difficulty.

"So it's L-speak for 'I'm lying.'"

"That may be a more accurate assertion. Light, you're angry with me, aren't you?" L enquired, trying to get a decent view of Light's eyes.

"No. I knew it. Thank you for respecting me enough to tell me a truth." Light curved himself a little around L's form and breathing in the almost sugared scent of his lacquer-black hair.

"As Light-kun keeps saying, he doesn't like lies," L said.

"No, I don't."

"My feelings are more ambivalent. Lies are both an irritation and a tantalus. My work has, for the most part, primarily been about finding and disproving lies and finding the hidden truths," L reflected.

Light stretched and closed his arms back around L. "Yet you employ them yourself."

"People have their reasons for lying. Self preservation of some kind. They are a necessary evil. Sometimes they begin to believe the lie themselves, but eventually it will be uncovered."

"I wish people didn't lie," Light muttered gently with a childlike innocence to his voice, gauzy and quiet as he slipped into sleep.

A few moments passed as L silently felt Light's chest fall into an even rhythm. He breathed the words out quietly into Light's heart, "Yes, Light. I wish we didn't."

* * *

Mello was bored, at a loss and splayed across his bed while Matt played some god-awful videogame on a beaten up sofa. They hadn't spoken for hours because Matt wanted a holiday. He was tired of life on the run from Wammy's House. It seemed that discovering their location had become a pet project for Near who, as Matt had found out through a phone call with Linda back at Wammy's, was quite close to being appointed his very own investigation team of his own as part of the SPK. It was to be a joint venture with Wammy's to test the brat's 'singular abilities'. Bringing out the small guns, a pitiful revolver if anything, Mello thought unkindly. Wammy indulging Near could only mean that L wasn't getting anywhere with anything. That was bad news, although why it bothered Mello, he didn't know.

What did bother him, was that he and Matt had to move from one rundown hotel to another every few days and to new cities every few weeks. Matt, thankfully, could wipe any electronic footprint they left, which allowed them to work from their rooms. But they were restricted, almost prisoners within changing four walls.

So, Matt wanted a holiday. He wanted to leave the country, and Mello wanted Matt back on side.

It was nothing less than divine providence, therefore, when he received a mysterious text on his phone telling him to collect an item from security box 248 from a bank in Geneva.

They have nice chocolate there. It's like chocolateland.

They leave for Switzerland.


	8. Well I Wonder

_**A/N: **_SakuraTV! Quality programming. Suck it sideways, BBC.

* * *

_**Chapter 8**_

_**Well I Wonder**_

Well I wonder,

do you hear me when you sleep?

I hoarsely cry

Well I wonder,

do you see me when we pass?

I half-die

Gasping, dying, but somehow still alive

This is the final stand of all I am

Please keep me in mind

~The Smiths

* * *

"Jeez, this place sees more action than a confessional in downtown New York," Matt said loudly causing some of the bank clerks to stare at him disapprovingly. Mello sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the pressure building in his head which Matt was, and Matt noticed. He cracked a winning smile at the back of Mello's head. The back of Mello's head didn't think it was funny. "I get it. Don't diss the bank."

Mello let his arms drop, hooking one thumb through a leather belt loop, looking effortlessly cool while Matt shuffled awkwardly beside him, all messy red hair, gawky long limbs in scuffed up jeans and Tim Burton stripes. He inclined his head towards Mello's ear.

"Mel, I feel guilty. Last time I was in a bank, I was robbing the it."

"You weren't actually in the bank though, Matt. You were in the car," Mello replied, irritably.

"I was pivotal. If I wasn't there what would you have done? Toddled off to get the tube with your sacks full of money?"

"Shhhh..." Mello hushed, flashing a steely eye at the red haired boy.

Matt sighed and pulled out his gameboy from his pocket. "Ok, ok," he muttered.

"Matt, put it back."

"Wha? Why? You wanted me to shut up."

"Yes, but that thing is bright pink and makes you look like a prick, which makes me look like a prick by association."

"Jesus. What's wrong with you?" Matt said, exasperated, pushing the console back into his back pocket. He began walking around, bored, kicking his converse trainers at the carpet. He stood upright as he noticed the pretty bank clerk in sensible shoes returning.

"Monsiuer Liebelindt, follow me please," she said in her melodious, heavily-accented voice. Matt wouldn't have been terribly surprised if she'd led them into a secret smoky gin joint and started singing an Édith Piaf song. Sadly she took them to a small office where a mint green enamelled box sat expectedly on a polished table. "Press the bell when you're finished," she said.

"Merci!" Matt called after her, titling on one leg comically as the clerk shut the door. He turned back to see that Mello had already opened the box and was gazing at the contents. Matt leaned on his shoulders. "So, WHAT'S IN THE BAAAAAAAX?" he asked. Mello turned his face and stared at him blankly. After a few moments, Matt broke down. "Y'know, Brad Pitt? 'Se7en'? Jeez, Mel, have you ever watched a film? You're like a cultural vacuum."

"I don't need to watch films. I have a life," Mello said, his focus returning to the contents of the container, drawing up an envelope with one leather gloved hand. "Let's go."

"Seriously, what is it?"

"Hopefully a cheque from my dear old granpappy," Mello replied, sarcastically. He slid the envelope into his coat pocket, slipping it in neatly between the lining and a bar of chocolate.

* * *

Back in the car, the letter sat on the dashboard, pressed up against the windscreen.

"Where did you leave your sense of humour anyway? I don't know what else I do to make you happy. We went to the chocolate factory. You stuck your head in the tank of liquid chocolate while the tour guide wasn't looking. I bought you him," Matt said, indicating to a horrifyingly cute stuffed toy chocolate bar which dangledfrom the rear view mirror. It had insane facial features and an 'M' embroidered on the wrapper. Mello had gone quite gooey-eyed over it in the the gift shop.

He wasn't gooey-eyed now. "Why so surly, bub?" Matt prodded, one leg hooked outside the open window. He puffed away on a newly lit cigarette while a gameboy chirped ecstatically, cosseted as it was between his nimble hands as the game loaded.

"Shut that thing up or it's going out the window," Mello said, grumpily.

"Sorry," Matt said with a slight roll of the eyes as he muted the volume on the console. "So, the letter?"

Mello's eyes focused on a woman who was tentatively attempt to cross the busy street, scurrying back to safety whenever a car came into view. He wondered if she'd ever make it to the other side.

"Well, firstly, it's addressed to me," he said in answer to Matt's question.

"Well, duh. Who did you think it'd be addressed to?"

"No, it's addressed to _me_. Whoever left me this letter knows my real name."

* * *

"Well, it seems that what we have here, in apocalyptic terms, is a battle for the soul of the civilised world," L stated, cheerfully.

"Let's try and keep things in perspective, shall we?" Light said, typing out the minutes of the meeting into the laptop propped up on his knees.

"Then strike it from the record. Go on, you know how I love it when the insights, which I have been paid millions to share, are disregarded by a jumped-up secretary. That is, unless you've decided to contribute in a more useful way than to record this meeting? We are, after all, having it autorecorded." L made a point of repeatedly tapping the microphone in the centre of the table to indicate how unnecessary Light's endeavours were.

"I like to make my own notes," Light explained, unruffled. "And yes, I will contribute, in time. Right, let's start with the broadcasts, and don't hog the floor, Ryuzaki." L scowled at Light and turned to stare at the audacity of Aizawa who immediately dared to give his opinion.

"Well, I would say that their broadcasts focus upon the idea that they are pulling a demoralised country out of a national crisis. What do you think, Light?" Aizawa said.

"Yes, they're proposing to eradicate political instability, ruinous inflation, and restoring national pride in one smooth action. However, what they don't promote is that this has been achieved by eliminating the opposition and borrowing beyond their means under the presumption that the country can be wholly self-sufficient," Light replied.

"In terms of a profile," L mumbled through a mouthful of tiramisu, "this is a group of opportunists headed by a shrewd political strategist. The outrage from the international community was expected and probably desired. They are, after all, little more than petulant bullies, and bullies like attention. Their actions and arrogance only earn the grudging respect of world leaders who would like to have been equally assertive. In truth, they do what they want and damn the consequences." He paused for a moment to insert another spoonful of sugary mass into his mouth.

Matsuda coughed into his hand after deciding against raising his hand like a student desperate to be heard. "Erm –"

"The extent of wholesale murder which has been committed is still not clear," L continued, cutting off Matsuda's timid attempt to speak. "Their command over the media limits public awareness within the country. With the incidents being kept as quiet as possible and dealt with the same level of clinical efficiency as they have exhibited so far, there's probability of 78%, no 79%, that the vast majority of the nation's people may think that this is a marvellous turn of events... But Light-kun seems to find this amusing," he added, having noticed Light's smiling to himself, "so I suppose that it must be all in good taste." Light was faced with a crowd of bemused faces all staring at him.

"Of course I don't find it amusing. I find your percentages amusing," he explained. "Carry on."

"And why are my percentages amusing, Light-kun?"

"It's not important. I apologise, Ryuzaki."

"No, really. I would like to know why you find what I say about such a serious matter so amusing," L insisted

Light looked for an ally amid the now vaguely horrified expressions around him. "Oh, come on," he sighed, slamming the pen down on his notepad. It was obvious to him. He was surprised that no one else had found it funny. "79%? Not 78%, and definitely not 80%. Make sure you've got it right because everything hangs on these percentages."

"Light!" Soichiro exclaimed.

"But, Dad - "

"Show some respect."

"But how can someone come up with percentages when you don't have any idea of the variables involved, never mind a ..." he faltered as he turned to find L's eyes boring a hole in his face. "You can't possibly work out what millions of individuals independently think to..." He gave up. "Ok, whatever. I'm sorry. Can we just continue?"

Matsuda finally found a moment of awkward silence in which to speak. "Um. Well, I just don't understand how the anyone could accept Astraea. They've brought down the entire country and killed so many people."

"They've placed their faith in a new saviour," L replied, still staring at Light who was now angrily striking out lines of his notes. "In regards to the mass murder, it was necessary. They would justify it by saying that those who opposed the party forfeited their lives because they were sub-human. It's not hard to understand," he said, wiping his finger around the ring of his tiramisu bowl. Light looked up just in time to see L insert the cream slathered digit into his mouth and plunge it in and out as if he was unblocking a drain.

"Good grief," Light sighed, his face a little flushed. He bent over his notes again and made of a shield over his eyes with his hand.

"I know, Light-kun. It's terrible," L sympathised.

"But why would they fall for it?" Soichiro asked, completely oblivious.

"It appeals to basic instincts and primal forces: a sense of national pride, of belonging; a symbol of authority, protection; for some they may fulfil hopes for a messiah, and for others they would be the archetypal trickster. They can't be all these things, perhaps they are none of them, but they would undoubtedly appeal to the majority and lead an entire nation to war. People are easily bought. We've seen throughout history how a strong, dogmatic regime can galvanise an entire nation into following them blindly into an abyss of self destruction. We saw it recently with Kira's devoted following."

"Do you think that this is Kira, Ryuzaki?" Soichiro asked.

"This isn't about Kira although they do appear to share certain traits and anomalies. Most striking of all is the imposing of a great will and the goal to create a new world in their image. The dawn of a new epoch. As they said in their broadcast, 'The world will experience Astraea, and through Astraea we will be victorious and develop a movement that will make Heaven and Hell tremble.' Stirring stuff, but this is not be the first organisation to exploit mass manipulation."

"It's evil."

"You make a good point, Matsuda-san."

"I do?"

"If evil is a conscious entity actively seeking entry into our world, could that account for the rise of Astraea. Of Kira? Could this be evil itself?"

"Evil is entirely man made," Light said. "Anyway, you said that this wasn't about Kira."

"Yes, I did, didn't I? Well, now to Astraea itself. Astraea, in Greek mythology means 'star maiden'. She is a celestial virgin and the personification of justice, innocence and purity. Ovid told of how Astraea was one of the last of the deities to live with the humans on earth, eventually fleeing the wickedness of humanity to become the constellation, Virgo. Her scales of justice are represented by the nearby constellation of Libra. It is said that Astraea will one day return to Earth, bringing with her a new utopia. To quote Virgil, 'The Virgin and the Days of Old return.'"

"An astrology sign is going to kill us," Aizawa laughed, bitterly, but was ignored by L.

"In Tarot, Astraea is represented by the 8th card, Justice," he continued, "Now, as we know, Astraea use the equivalent card from the Thoth tarot as their political emblem: 'Adjustment'. It's this card which represents the organisation. It's all made very clear. Astraea personifies their supposed qualities, ideals and goal."

"Which is?" Mogi asked.

"They're going to force their 'utopia' upon the world. It's only a matter of time before they attempt an attack on a larger scale."

"Oh."

Aizawa broke the silence that followed. "So an astrology sign _and_ a bunch of crazies are going to kill us?"

* * *

A lull followed, and after a hour of no news, Watari suggested that the task force have a rest while they could, and off they had trundled to find rooms in the maze of the HQ. L made no attempt to move from his chair, and it was only at Watari's insistence that Light be allowed to rest too which forced him to go also. It wasn't until 10 a.m that Watari called L to tell them of some developments. SakuraTV was covering the story with gusto, and the words along the bottom of the screen confirmed that the proverbial shit had hit the fan.

After wandering downstairs, they watched the newsreader on the large screen. She appeared flustered, overcome by the pressure upon her as she read the breaking news from a her notes. "Astraea's threat on political leaders has been carried out. So far, SakuraTV has confirmation of at least 36 world leaders who have been executed by Astraea. We will have reports on this shocking turn of events from political reporters, in Tokyo and abroad, shortly.

"Astraea's threatening broadcasts led to panic in government offices and mass resignations from politicians followed, leaving most major countries in political uproar. The names of the dead are currently being listed along the bottom of your screens. There are, as yet, unconfirmed reports that the victims inflicted mutilations upon themselves before death."

"I suppose that this is Astraea's 'attack on a larger scale' you mentioned," Light said, blandly. He was too tired to be shocked.

"Seems so," L agreed.

"Everything is falling apart like a house of cards." Light mumbled as stretched tiredly. He jumped as he noticed Watari appear like a phantom behind L's chair.

"Watari?" L enquired.

"Still secure, Ryuzaki," Watari replied.

"I suppose that you should wake the rest of the task force."

"There has been no word on M," Watari told him. Whoever M was and the lack of information on his whereabouts had no apparent impact on L.

"We can only hope that they managed to get abroad before the country fell," he said. If Watari expected more concern then he was disappointed. He bowed and left as quietly as he had appeared.

"Is everything ok?" Light asked.

L straightened his back as much as seemed comfortably possible for him. "Yes, Light-kun. Please tell me about your research. I'm sorry that I was distracted earlier."

"Yes, it was tragic," Light sighed. "Well, I chose to focus upon the logistics of the deaths of known Kira victims and what we know of recent deaths in the U.K.. They differ significantly. The Kira deaths, based upon what we know, are almost all caused by fatal heart attacks which cannot be anticipated. There are deaths which appear to have been specified, such as suicide or apparent accidents, but these were for specific purposes, such as using prisoners to communicate to you," Light said pointedly. He felt a twinge of guilt for not being able to devote the seriousness which was due. He lifted bright eyes towards L, who gave a half-smile in return.

"You're in a good mood this morning, Light-kun," L observed.

"Yes, I suppose I am," Light agreed. He crossed a graceful leg over the other, his shoeless foot brushing against L's thigh.

"Wench."

Light hmmm-ed across a whole octave. "So, the only link between Astraea and Kira in the manner of death is the prisoner who drew a pentangle in his own blood."

"You've completely ruined the moment now, Light-kun," L said sadly, letting his finger breeze along the length of Light's foot.

"Information on the Astraea deaths are more sketchy," Light valiantly continued, "but the recent murders of the politicians all had the similarity of cutting symbols into their bodies before death by heart attack." He absentmindedly dug his toes further into L as he brought some recent crime scene photographs up on his laptop; one of which showed a ghastly star crudely sliced into the chest of the victim.

"You've ruined it again, Light-kun," L complained when confronted with the gory image.

Light made a smile in the very worst taste. "While researching cases of similar deaths in history, I found a reference of a Book of Death. According to this source, it had the ability to kill anyone whose name was written in it. Hitler, among others, devoted considerable resources trying to locate it."

"Good job he didn't have you on his team."

"Ryuzaki, I do believe that was both a joke, a compliment, and a slap across the face all rolled into one. Congratulations."

L said, slid his fingers underneath the top of Light's sock and running them along the ridge impressions left behind in Light's ankle by the ribbed knit. "You wore your socks in bed, Light-kun. Don't think that I didn't notice. Your standards are slipping."

"Anyway," Light continued, breezily ignoring the nonsense, "Although he did quite enough damage without it, it is rather fortunate that he was unable to recover this book. I've only found two mentions of it, both 15th century."

"I see. And where did you find these 'mentions'."

"And it's quite interesting so you should probably -"

"Light-kun."

"What?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"I'm not, but what's important is the... Oh, all right. I found it in a collection of folk tales. I know, ok? Don't start," Light sighed.

"I won't judge you, Light-kun. Nor will I suggest that you have spent your investigative time reading fairy stories. What I will ask is, do you believe that this is worth further research?"

"That's for you to decide."

"Well, in that case, I think that reading into 'Aesop Fables' in an attempt to explain Kira's and Astraea's abilities may well be considered as scraping the barrel."

"I did think it was a bit far fetched," Light admitted. "But the Hitler connections -"

"Have spanned from stories of crystal skulls, spears of destiny, holy grails and demonic possessions. Let's not get carried away. Before resorting to children's literature, perhaps you could try to find more logical explanations first?"

Light sulkily closed his research file, tossing it the floor beside him. For the first time, he caught sight of the spies in the office, lolling across couches and smoking like chimneys. He literally kicked himself away from L and back to his side of the desk. He hadn't expected that Wedy, Aiber and V would come in today, and presumed that L had called them in for some reason. He wondered whether their ability to silently enter and leave a room was intentional. Was it was a skill they'd picked up and been unable to shake off during day to day life?

Aiber and Wedy were sitting at the coffee table, smoking where L and Light usually played chess while brainstorming the case. V sat opposite Matsuda at the main table, working intently on a laptop, cigarette dangling from a red lip. They had ignored L's quiet chastisement their about smoking around Light, who still experienced some breathing difficulties at times. In the early hours of the morning, Light had a violent coughing fit and L joked that it was just a furball. Even so, despite appearing unconcerned for Light's benefit, he was anxious that he obviously hadn't recovered completely yet.

"Ryuzaki, I'm surprised that this is how you've chosen to utilise Aiber, V and Wedy," Light said, pink and flustered.

"Truthfully, Light-kun? Why is that?" L spinning his chair around to peer into Light's face while dabbing the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip.

"Well," Light answered, immediately regretting opening his mouth, "I wouldn't have thought that desk work would be their speciality. Also, if they're here, who is watching Misa?"

"How delicately put, Light-kun." L replied. "You think that I should send them out on reconnaissance missions? Blindly, I might add, because we have no information yet on _where _to send them, or what to send them to look for. As for Amane-san, I have sent Mogi-san to watch her today; he's posing as her PA. It's touching that you care for Amane-san's well-being."

Light scowled in response and turned at the sound of yet more people coming in.

"Maybe we should be sent on a reconnaissance mission for pizza and a decent coffee shop," Aiber said, loudly.

"Urgh, that's disgusting. Pizza at any time of day, but in the moring? Anyway, it's neither breakfast nor lunchtime," Wedy said.

"It is where I come from."

"Where? The penitentiary?"

"Careful, you'll cut yourself with that tongue of yours."

"Do you like pizza, V-san?" Matsuda said quietly from across the table, looking distinctly terrified.

"Hmmm?" V said looking up.

"Pizza?"

"What _are _you talking about?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Oh, no. Thank you."

Matsuda sat back in his seat, visibly deflated.

"There's no use asking V, Matsuda. She lives off the flesh of virgins," Aiber called over through a cloud of smoke.

"Aiber, don't tease," Wedy chastised, looking kindly at Matsuda as if he was a particularly unfortunate puppy.

"Yes, ignore him, Matsuda. I only need to eat a virgin every 50 years and I'm not due for again for a little while. You're safe," V said, never once taking her eyes of her computer screen. Aiber positively roared, rocking back, the force of which flung cigarette ash all over the black leather couch.

"I don't get it," Matsuda complained. "What's so funny?"

"I believe that I have mentioned that HQ is non-smoking. Please show some consideration," L almost shouted.

"Sorry Light," Aiber said, realising whose benefit they were being told off. He snuck a quick drag before stubbing out the cigarette.

"Yes, sorry Light. Terrible habit," Wedy concurred while continuing to smoke hers.

"I don't mind," Light said, although he did really.

"You're right, Light-kun. Why should any of us mind? When we're all dying of cancer due to their cigarettes, Aiber, V and Wedy will be kind enough to ferry us to and from the hospital."

"Of course we will." V said.

L seemed to shudder at the complete lack of professionalism in his team before turning back to Light. "My point is, Light-kun, that it's none of your concern how I employ my agents."

Almost on cue, V suddenly stood up and stretched.

"Going for a turn around the room, dear lady? Care for company?" Aiber asked, adopting a plummy tone.

"I think I can manage it, thanks," V said smiling. She walked over to L and leaned upon the back of his chair, looking over his shoulder at his screen.

"Keep this channel open for communications," L said simply, passing what looked like a glorified mobile phone to her.

"Done," V replied, bending down between L and Light, to quickly scruff her hand playfully through L's mop of hair before grabbing her jacket on her way out of the door. Light stared at L, vaguely annoyed that yet another secret mission was blatantly underway without him knowing. Telepathy had apparently been added to L's list of talents.

"What was that?" Light asked.

"What was what, Light-kun?"

"That. Oh for God's sake, don't bother. I should be used to being kept in the dark by now," he said haughtily.

* * *

"L -"

"Ryuzaki, please," L requested. V smiled at the pointlessness of using an alias for someone who was normally known by an alias.

"Ryuzaki then," she said. "You're cold towards him."

"Not especially."

"You are," she insisted. L turned, away to look out of the window, instead catching his reflection in the glass. "You were practically suicidal while he was ill and now you're treating him like he's Matsuda or someone," she continued. "I know that you like to play with your food, but honestly, if he's Kira, why don't you just incarcerate him?"

"He was Kira. I believe that given time he will make a mistake and reveal his true self."

"Perhaps you just want him to be Kira. I'm sorry, it just doesn't seem likely. He's just a kid."

Do I _want_ him to be Kira?" L repeated, appearing to be considering the idea as if for the first time, though Light had accused him of the same thing nearly a month beforehand, right after punching him into a plant pot.

"Has he been been given a polygraph test?"

"Yes. It was negative."

"Then you have to accept that you're wrong."

"Once I am assured that his respiration is optimum once again, I will find an opportunity to administer thiopental and see if that reveals any suppressed memories,"

"And if a truth serum doesn't work? What then? When will you admit that he's not guilty?"

"Everything points to him. It is so like him."

"It doesn't seem that way. If I didn't know you better I'd say that you were fixated. In fact, yes, I do know you better and I will say that you're fixated. This is not really a good way of endearing yourself to someone you like."

"Anyway, besides this," L said, ignoring her last comment and holding up a document, "what else did you find?"

V sighed, pulling at her jacket cuffs. "Well, it does look like something. I'll have to do a bit more digging before I can say with any certainty. Give me a few more days but I will say this: it's definitely something."

"If it is in Japan then that would be quite a coincidence," L said, turning to her. "This could be the end."

* * *

"Is there a particular reason why you're avoiding me?" Light grumbled after a particularly long and drawn-out silence. He felt a bit like L was a ghost who was tied to him, or the other way around, and that L was oblivious to his presence.

"I'm not, Light-kun. Only a few hours ago I was calling you a wench and we were engaged in the early stages of foot sex in a public place."

"No, you're ignoring me. You're either fondling me, disregarding what I say, or ignoring me altogether, and I'm sick of it. Make your mind up."

"I am led to believe that that behaviour is what constitutes a normal relationship, Light-kun."

"I'm serious."

"You're very high maintenance."

"I'm serious," Light repeated.

"Do we have to do this now?"

"Should I book an appointment?"

"Oh, Light-kun," L groaned.

"Just talk to me."

"What about?"

"Take what is up there," Light said, gently grabbing either side of L's head, "and let me have it." L looked horrified by the suggestion. It wasn't because he was unused to being asked for his opinion, but it had always been in relation to cases. He'd never had a request for for his private thoughts. Well, very rarely anyway, and certainly not in a "let me have it" kind of way. He'd had straight up questions of a personal nature on occasion, because V was nosy. But V could be ignored and Light was difficult to ignore. People didn't generally ask how he was feeling and all those general niceties which people exchanged. He was just the robot in the corner and it was generally accepted. Not that it had bothered him that he wasn't involved in these standard exchanges. It couldn't have bothered him less, in fact. He supposed that it was because people generally didn't care or presumed that he couldn't have thoughts which didn't involve statistics of axe-wielding murderers in Venezuela. But Light wanted him to relay a stream of consciousness. That was novel. And sadly, he couldn't wholly oblige for a variety of reasons.

"Ah. Well, I'm thinking about the case. That's taking up a lot of head-space. I'm irritated with the UN for ignoring my suggestions and instead choosing to do absolutely nothing in regards to Astraea. I'm annoyed with Matsuda, just generally." He sighed heavily. "Very well. I suspect that I'm experiencing what could be classed as a delayed reaction. I'm having trouble adjusting to the idea of the gravity of my feelings for you and how inappropriate all of this is. Perhaps you know that. Your near death experience didn't do me any good. Plus, you're very irritating and egotistical in an interesting way, so overall I'm not sure why I like you at all or how I should deal with the ramifications. I'm 50% confused, 20% angry and 12% traumatised."

"What about the remaining 18%?"

"I'm 18% happy, I think."

Light laughed while trying to tame a rogue spike of black hair which was sticking out from L's head at a very strange angle. "Well, this whole situation is pretty ill-advised. I think we can both agree on that. It'd explain the 50% confusion."

"Ill-advised?"

"Of course it is. You think that this is easy for me? You think that I'm Kira, yet you say that you... well, you demonstrate feelings for me on a fairly regular basis. That's quite messed up."

"Kira has nothing to do with it."

"Kira has everything to do with it."

"Light-kun, I love you. That is not to say that I condone the actions of Kira, which are diabolical, but I cannot prevent myself from being idiotic in regards to you."

Light was taken aback for a moment while he tried to process the words. "You said that you loved me," he murmured, wide-eyed.

"I did."

"You _did_ love me?"

"Nothing has changed in the last fifteen seconds. I still do."

"You idiot," Light said, leaning into him suddenly and kissing him harshly.

"I know," L agreed, his breathing broken as he practically fell into Light.

Light pulled back. "Hold on, I don't understand how you can infer that I'm Kira but that you love me, all in the same breath."

"I'm sorry," L said, wiping his lip.

"I don't want you to apologise for what you believe."

"But I don't want to believe it."

"So I'm just lucky then?"

"Please forgive me."

"For what? My getting anthrax-ed, or because you think that I'm a serial killer but love me anyway?"

"Everything. And it wasn't anthrax."

"Right."

"If it was anthrax, you'd probably be dead."

"Oh, I feel so much better now. I _could _be dead. In any case, my getting whatevered by the hoodoo letter is my problem, and you thinking that I'm a serial killer but loving me anyway is very much your problem. I've given up on trying to convince you otherwise on that issue. You'll get there on your own eventually."

"I suppose so."

"Just don't avoid me. Even when you're arguing with me and accusing me of awful things, I'd prefer that to being ignored," Light said, pressing a kiss down upon the spirited silken black strands which no amount of encouragement or hair products could tempt it to cooperate with gravity. "Oh, the joy of it all," he added, sardonically.

"This caring and sharing business has given me a headache," L said, nuzzling into Light's kiss like an affectionate cat.

"I'll get you some cake."

"No, no cake. Chocolate."

"Wow, almost like a normal person," Light joked, reaching into the nearby cupboard and pulling out two bars. He smiled. L noticed.

"Why are you smiling, Light-kun?"

"No reason," Light said passing L a family sized bar and kept one for himself.

"You're going to join me?" L blurted, stupefied.

"I like chocolate sometimes." Light pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table

"But not cake," L stated, taking a seat opposite.

"I only eat cake on birthdays, and only then because it's rude if I don't."

"And appearances are everything to Light-kun. You must mimic what is socially acceptable."

"Ah, you're insulting me again. Oh, never mind. Since living with you my respect for Watari-san has gone through the roof. He must have had to put up with this rubbish for years."

"Watari loves me. V said."

"Well, if V said so then I suppose that it must be true."

"Are you jealous?"

Light laughed at the absurdity of it. "Of what? V? No. Don't be stupid. She has... ugly shoes. Why would she be interested in you anyway?"

"You're angry, Light-kun. It's adorable."

"I can't believe that the world as we know it is falling apart and you're contemplating my adorability, however legitimate a concern that may be," Light said. He rakishly leaning back in his chair like an invitation and snapped a square of chocolate between his teeth.

"It hasn't fallen apart yet."

"So, you're just biding your time?"

They gazed at each other across the table for a moment. L was transfixed by the way Light's eyes flickered downwards with a knowing coquettishness usually reserved for the finest whores of Montmartre. L stretched from his crouch to crawl along the kitchen table which separated them. Light's eyes met L's again and he smirked an evil smile as he watched L stalk across the table towards him. The same eyes closed as L's lips curved over his and they fought a slow battle for dominance.

Breathlessly, Light whispered into the corner of L's mouth - "What are you doing?"

L grabbed a fistful of sienna-coloured hair. "Biding my time. Something like that," he replied.

* * *

The silence was overwhelming. L was both desperate to break it and terrified to at the same time. It wasn't just silence, it was the overbearing hushed quiet of people who wouldn't make a sound.

Voices that couldn't.

The friction of the denim of his jeans made a otherworldly whisper as he approached the wide open door to A's room. It was as if the room was open on display for pilgrimage. When L crossed the threshold, he took in the few owner-less objects in the room, oddities like a piece of sea-polished glass on the windowsill which might have had a tender story once but probably doesn't any more because no else knows. It's only story now will be when someone takes it as a curio, showing it to a hushed classroom and says, 'This was A's.' He breathed in the oppressive sadness which made up the air. The room was hazy, dust particles danced, catching the dull light and betraying the fact that this stillness had followed a period of intensity in this room not long before. People rushing, screaming in and out. It seemed wrong how it passed so quickly. How a place where he'd lived had become a memorial over the space of a few moments of time. A complete waste.

His eyes fells open the figure on the bed. She faced the wall, the fall of her long dress had fanned out over the edge of the bed like in a Pre-Raphaelite painting. As L drew closer he saw that her arms were crossed across her chest, fingers digging into her upper arm in a maniacal attempt at comfort, or perhaps it was to stop herself falling apart. She'd sensed that he was there without opening her eyes.

"He left me this room," she said, her voice was glassy and numb, "He knew I always liked it more than mine. That's what he said in the note. That's why he did it in there, so I could 'have this room with no memories'. I mean, who thinks like that?" A soft mockery of laugh racked through her empty chest.

"I think the point is that he wasn't thinking clearly," L said, and his voice seemed too loud. It should be more gentle, as light as hers was. It wasn't right.

"Yes, for the solace. I should try, shouldn't I? It's just that I can't help but think that he was planning this. No, maybe not planning, but expecting it."

"Expecting would suggest that he had no control over this."

"Maybe that's the truth," she said with a broken smile

"V. I read the note. I'm sorry," L said.

"I'm not angry at you, L," she said kindly. "I know it's not your fault, but I can't face you yet. I'm sorry, it just hurts. It feels like, like I'm caving in inside. When I close my eyes I can still see him. There's no escape really. Heh, you'd think we'd be used to this by now, wouldn't you? Loss. Funny that it still manages to take us by surprise. It's so stupid. So stupid. You think, after you've lost so much, you couldn't possibly feel worse than that. Like it's an inoculation or something and nothing else could ever make you feel like that again. And then -"

"I never intended to make him feel so burdened. If only he'd -" L muttered towards the polished floorboards beneath his feet.

"Please, L."

"V, I think you should come downstairs for a while. I'll have a room made up for you in the east wing."

"No, I can't, he left this room for me."

"V."

"Did you see?"

Yes, he'd seen. At the time, he couldn't take his eyes from it. There was something ridiculous about it, like a wax work dummy on a ghost train. Wammy had literally had to push him from the room while some unknown men came in to take it away like it never happened. It. Afterwards, there was no trace. Not even a rub into the varnish of the beam where the rope had cut in. He could have kidded himself that he'd dreamt it all as long as everyone else decided to play along too. Yes, L knew what she meant, but he wasn't sure that he should encourage her to dwell upon it. But then, she'd think about it anyway. If he tried to steer the conversation away, she'd probably think about it all the more. Better that he knew what she was thinking while she was so open. Cracked open by the shock, like a walnut shell. Better that he could walk alongside her thoughts than for her to be alone, wrapping herself up in guilt and regret. He could try to help. He could try.

"Yes. Yes, I saw," he said.

"You did? Of course you did. It was... the day was so beautiful. It still is, isn't it? But, God, to see him like that. At first I just saw the shadow. No, before then, I knew. I think I knew when I reached the landing, before I was anywhere near this room. It was the stillness. Ha, and I thought that nothing bad could happen on a day like today. It's like a Henry James novel outside. But bad things happen in Henry James novels, don't they? And I couldn't bring myself to look at him. The kids outside, this ridiculously beautiful day making a shadow from him. Yes, and the kids outside. The world stopped dead, L. I don't know how long I stared at that shadow for." She sat upright suddenly, facing the wall and taken with the idea that perhaps it was someone else after all. "It was him wasn't it?"

"Yes, V, it was."

"Yes," she repeated sadly. "L? Don't you think that it's funny that I wasn't really surprised? I knew before B screamed. Isn't that funny?" A couple of moments passed while she seemed to contemplate something. "How is B?" she asked.

"He's sedated right now," L answered, wincing at the memory of the hoarse, worn out screaming creature. Crying and wheezing into nothingness as the chemicals shut everything down. V's head titled to one side and L watched her hair fall across her shoulder, keeping her face masked.

"Poor B. He was so upset. And I've been so mean to him, always."

"That's to be expected." L said.

"No, yesterday. He... A, wouldn't see him. Last night. He just wouldn't see him and B didn't understand why. B had been acting crazy all day, and then when A wouldn't see him, he was just screaming for him to open the door. Screaming all this rubbish at the door."

"What was he screaming?"

"'The numbers keep changing.' That was it. Over and over."

"The numbers? What numbers?"

"No idea."

"When did this start?"

"That morning, at breakfast. He'd been batshit all day, driving everyone insane."

"I had no idea."

"How could you have known? You're never here," V said. It was hard to judge how venomous the statement was without seeing her face. Her tone was flat and emotionless, yet the words themselves were barbed, like an accusation. It was an echo of what had been circling L's mind since he saw A's body strung up like a strange fruit. You could have stopped this. "B idolised him," V continued. Her voice had turned dreamlike. "It was the kindness, you see. He had time for B; said that he could be saved. I told him, 'Don't say that. You'll let him down one day. You'll let us down one day with all these promises'."

* * *

The HQ had been strangely empty the last few days. Very little had been seen of V, Wedy and Aiber, just brief visitations. L would would talk to them in a quiet corner far away from Light and anyone else. Or worse, he'd leave the room with them for such periods of time that Light cursed himself for worrying that he might never come back. He could have opened links to the CCTV to reassure himself, but he wouldn't allow himself to because it was stupid. Because he couldn't bear it.

And then, while L kissed the paper thin skin over Light's spine in a room that still smelled of Misa, Watari's voice broke over the loudspeakers. They hurriedly got themselves together without a word and ran back downstairs.

"Ryuzaki, this has just come through," Watari said, passing L a print-out of what look like a transcript of an audio recording, which he read over quickly.

"Get V on the line, Watari," he demanded, sternly.

"Yes, Ryuzaki."

A few moments later, the large initial "V" appeared on the main monitor. L climbed onto his chair, delicately altering the angle of the microphone.

"V, are you outside the church?"

"Inside," her disembodied voice whispered through the speakers.

"Inside? V this was not discussed."

Light turned to L. So, this was what L had organised with V without telling the rest of the team. He couldn't help but feel annoyed and even slightly hurt that L had chosen not to involve him on this. All those 'you're integral to the investigation team' lines were just words after all.

Aizawa, Matsuda and Soichiro stood up and all at once began questioning Ryuzaki angrily, which he ignored, of course. Not even deigning to brush the questions aside.

"Something came up." V exhaled over the audio link. She sounded out of breath, as though running. There was a sudden commotion on the line; a scuffling sound, and that of soft bodies hitting hard stone.

"So get out and get back here as soon as possible," L told her, aggressively.

Soon after, they heard a man's shouts being cut off abruptly. V's voice, calm and firm but sounding further away, spoke again. "Stop there or I'll you'll get a bullet in the knee. Just tell me what you know. I'm not interested in anything else, especially not your legs, so try again or get ready to lose them. Easy now... what did I say? I wasn't joking y'know?" The sound of a gunshot covered by a silencer at close quarters was followed by terrible, intense screaming which sounded distorted and metallic over the speakers. "Now, where is it? Where is the book?" V demanded.

"This is kinda cool but what's this about?" Matsuda commented, his eyes glazed in awe.

"V," L said into the microphone, apparently not sharing that awe.

"Just a minute."

"V," L repeated.

"What?" she answered in an exasperated tone.

"Have him taken into custody. I don't want him bleeding to death. We can question him here," L said calmly.

"He's not gonna bleed to death. Not if he answers quickly so I don't get bored and make a vase out of his head," she said. The graphic and unique flower arranging idea was presumedly more for the benefit of her hostage than for L.

"V. Do as I say. I'm calling in reinforcements and I want you to go with them."

"L , it's here. I know it's here. Just give me a minute with this guy."

"No V. Withdraw. Come back to headquarters quickly. The Yakuza have your position. Aiber is tracking them and they're heading your way."

"How the fuck did they find that out?" V shouted, apparently to her hostage, "How? Huh? They're on their way - it's almost like someone's blabbed, don't you think? Can you tell me? You better tell me Right after you give me that book!"

"V, please, get out now," L repeated, "I have aerial view of the area on the screen; I'll direct you. Watari, call the NPA for assistance."

"Wait, L, I just need a little more time," V said.

"We don't have time. For God's sake, V. This is an order. The objective has changed. Get out of there." A moment passed before V spoke again. "I'm sorry, L. I never was very good with orders."

The line went dead. Nothing but a white screen with a black V initial hovering in space.

"Damn it, V," L spat out in English before smoothly returning to Japanese, "Matsuda, give me your phone." Matsuda obediently handed over his phone and L was soon typing in numbers with alarming speed. "Answerphone," L muttered. "Watari, the car. Aizawa, you stay here with Light and lock down the building."

"No, Ryuzaki, you're not leaving me here. I'm going with you," Light said defiantly

"Light, I don't have time for this. Do as you're told. Yagami-san, please talk to your son," L said, taking a small revolver from Watari after dialing another number into the phone.

"No,!" Light shouted, grabbing L's wrist, "L, I'm coming with you."

"Light, I couldn't, it's too -" but faltered with the determined look on Light's face. Lifting the phone but never taking his eyes from Light's, L seemed to relent. "Wedy, you and Aiber get to the church immediately and try and secure the building as best you can. We're coming in."


	9. There is a Light That Never Goes Out

**Chapter 9**

**There Is A Light That Never Goes Out**

_And if a double decker bus crashes into us:_

_to die by you side is such a heavenly way to die_

_And if a ten ton truck, kills the both of us_

_to die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine._

_~ The Smiths_

* * *

L was silent in the car as Watari sped along the Tokyo roads towards the docklands. Soichiro and the rest of the team followed in a car behind. Light watched as L absentmindedly thumbed the mobile in his hand before trying the line again.

"Still the answerphone. So stupid," L said, exasperated, letting his hand fall on his knee.

"She'll be all right," Light said, in as comforting tone as he could muster. Truth was, he didn't think it would be all right. This whole thing, whatever it was, had spiralled into chaos and they were currently driving right into it. He was surprised that Ryuzaki was taking this action; putting himself in danger, not just himself but the whole investigation team too. He was usually so unforgiving of agent cock-ups and yet he was willing to put everyone's lives in jeopardy for V. Or was it for the 'book'. Light studied L the whole time, a spectral, translucent reflection in the car window and apparently expressionless. He could distinguish how tense he was, it could be sensed like a oncoming storm. It made Light feel more agitated than he'd like. "Ryuzaki, what book is V looking for?" he asked.

L didn't even show any indication that he's even heard the question. Instead, he tried the phone impatiently again and slamming it down with more force when he, again, got no reply. As Light's eyes focused in on L's reflection in the glass, he saw those obsidian eyes staring back at him, dipping in and out of view with the passing street lights.

"_I_ was stupid to let her go. She's unreliable," L confessed, turning his face so slightly that Light could see his profile. "Now we could lose everything. Why does everything have to be so wrong?"

"Ryuzaki, I have brought the rifle," Watari stated from the drivers seat. "I hope we have no need of it."

"Thank you, Watari." L replied, pleasantly.

Light was irritated when Watari interrupted. He discerned that the intention was to remind L that his strange fragility and openness was not appropriate to share with Light. No, on the face of it, Light wasn't someone he should be confiding in about anything. In more boring moments, Light was fascinated by L and Watari's relationship. The ever present foundations of politeness; the way neither of them seemed vaguely rattled while speaking to each other. It was like they grounded each other. Wait a minute. A rifle? Light's eyes spun to Watari. Had he strayed into a Tarantino film? What was Watari doing with a rifle and hoping that he wouldn't have to have need of it?

"Ryuzaki, please, if this is to do with the case, we have a right to know. I have a right to know," Light said, sternly.

L turned to Light, looking as tired as he'd ever seen him. "It's about the information you found about the book of death which could be used to kill anyone whose name was written within it," he explained.

"God, I knew it!"

"I'm sorry, Light, I took the lead from you. Eventually, I traced a source to a church in Italy and found links to a Yakuza group who had had it stolen and exported here to Japan. V found where we suspected the book was being held for the handover. It's the church where V is now. Wedy and Aiber have been keeping tabs on the Yakuza group while V tried to track down and obtain the book and effectively hijack the exchange. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have gone as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"No, it really hasn't. I wonder why?" Light muttered, sarcastically.

"Are you saying that it would be been better had you been involved? Because you know absolutely nothing about this kind of operation. Telling everyone would only hamper things further."

"Oh, I'm used to being excluded, don't worry. But you lied to me. You said that the information I found was useless," Light said, trying desperately to take it all in but faltering upon the fact that L had stolen from him. Lied to him. Damn sentimentalism. Was he destined to allow himself to be disappointed by L over and over again?

"I'm sorry," L repeated, because there was nothing else he could say.

"Yes, you're always sorry."

The cars drew up outside the church, the shell of which could just be seen beneath corrugated iron which was fencing it in, lines of red rust running down like tears. As the team gathered behind L's armoured car, L turned to Light.

"Light-kun, I'd rather you'd stay here. Matsuda-san, stay with him. Unless you would prefer to, Yagami-san."

"No, Ryuzaki," Light said, urgently. Absolutely fucking not.

"Light, Ryuzaki is right. This is too dangerous. Stay here with Matsuda," Soichiro told him, softly as he eyes wandered over the building he was about to enter.

"No, Dad, we've been through this. I have a right, don't I? I'm part of this team and what's in that building could prove my innocence." While Light didn't much want to be in a car with his father and a gun again, he also didn't want L to go in there without him. He did have a right, didn't he? More than most. Aside from that, he couldn't help but feel a strange draw to that shell of a building.

"Light-kun -"

Before L could continue, a peal of gunshots echoed from inside the building. Instinctively, the team all reached for their revolvers. Watari bent over and opened his briefcase, pulling out the rifle. It was a big 'un. Light thought that he'd seen something similar in a film about Stalingrad. God, it was Clint Eastwood-size!

"Wedy, Aiber. What are your positions? None of you are showing on the tracker. Have you located V?" L said into the transceiver.

Over the crackling line and in-between gunshots, Wedy whispered, "L? Aiber, she's taking them out!" which was followed by a desperate shout - "This is crazy, we should help her! Aiber!"

Aiber replied decisively, "Where is she? Jesus Christ. Wedy, pull back, pull back!"

The mobile in L's hand rang. L stared at the display, it was V's number on the caller display, he answered it immediately, putting it on speakerphone.

"V?" he said, hesitantly.

"L, I presume. This is the Napoleon of crime speaking." The voice had a gassy, wheezy half laugh to it and a positively hateful pretence of friendliness. "I have your girl here. Caused quite a bit of a fuss, she did. Let's strike a deal here shall we? I'll let this one go with barely a dent in her bodywork if you guarantee me a free way out of this."

"Let me speak to her," L demanded, coldly.

"Say hello to daddy, sweetheart," the voice cooed.

"L, don't do it! Kill the bastard. He has the -" V's voice pled breathlessly before being cut off by the sharp sound of knuckles hitting soft skin.

"So, there you go. Now I suggest you hurry. Your girl has a bit of a problem concerning a bullet in the gut and I'd hate for her to stain the furniture, especially in a house of God. Please collect immediately and let's try and be friendly about this," the man's voice slimed across the phone.

"Bring her outside, you will not be troubled," L said.

"No, I would quite like to meet the great L. You're responsible for my brother being executed, so I heard. Come in, why don't you?"

"Fine," L answered, not sounding in the least concerned.

"Ryuzaki," Light murmured.

"Stay here, Light-kun."

Everything told Light to agree. Going in there was suicide. Then why was his instinct telling him to go in that building.

"No, Ryuzaki. We'll all go in. He'd be less likely to shoot if he's unsure which one of us is L. You can't go in alone," Light implored.

"We don't know who else is in there. It could end up like the St Valentine's Day Massacre if we're not careful," Aizawa stated.

"Light, Ryuzaki is right. There's no need for you to go in. Stay in the car with Matsuda. Matsuda, keep the engine running," Soichiro said with such finality it nearly stunned Light into submission.

"No, Dad. L, please."

L looked troubled, and rightly so. Chances were that he and possibly the rest of the task force were about to be killed. He should pull back, but he couldn't sacrifice V like that. This was his fault. He told V in no uncertain terms to retrieve the book. He sent her into a slaughter and now that criminal had the book. There had to be some way around this. He was willing to accept responsibility for his failing, as long as the book somehow found its way into the team's hands. There was Light though. Light shouldn't be here.

"Ryuzaki, Wedy, and Aiber are at the back of the building. There's no way he can escape apart from the front entrance," Watari stated decisively. "It looks like the rest of his men are dead, but we can't be sure."

"Then Aizawa and Matsuda should stay here as back-up until the NPA arrive," L said. "Light-kun, if anything happens, you must leave immediately. Stay behind your father. Can I trust that you won't be heroic?"

"Can I trust you?" Light countered. "Just don't do anything stupid."

L's eyes hardened as he started towards the building, the rest followed closely. The metal door creaked open. No chance of a silent entrance. A single light, recently hung by the looks of it, was suspended in the centre of the cavity of the church. All pews, altars, tables and book had long since been removed or stacked against the walls to rot, leaving an wide-open, eerie space. A dull whistle of air ran through the hollow between the broken cracks in the stained glass windows which were caked in dirt. Almost directly underneath the light was a tall, stocky man grasping a girl by her hair. Light recognised the man as Yakuza boss, Yoshi Hashimoto. He'd come across his file during his research on mafia groups within Japan who could possibly be involved with or be targeted by Kira.

The team moved closer as one, closing the gap.

"Sending in little girls like this is rather foolish," Hashimoto spoke, he had a shrill, nasal voice which didn't suit his appearance. Aizawa was the last of the team to enter the building and he pushed the door closed behind him. It was impossible for them to see if there were any snipers with these ill-lit conditions. V struggled under the Hashimoto's firm grip. "She must be dispensable to you," he continued, quickly bringing up his revolver, shooting V in the temple and letting her limp body to drop heavily to the floor.

L made a slight move forwards until he saw the blood soak through V's hair and fill the channels between the tiles on the floor and pool out around her. Unseeing eyes shone brightly, still wet with tears and anger. Her skin already had a blue cast. It took L a moment to realise that Hashimoto's revolver was now aiming at him.

"So, you're L? I suppose that I should be flattered by the attention. You're not what I expected though, I must say. I hope this wasn't too important to you," he said, gestured to the prone body beneath him. "But you see, she killed some of my best men and nearly got hold of this. Couldn't have that," he said, pulling out a thin, rolled-up book from his jacket and inclined his head towards it.

"You're surrounded, Hashimoto. You can't escape. This is pointless," L said, looking towards V again.

"Yes, well. We'll see. Do you know what this is? I'm not sure you do. I'll tell you this, it's not my address book, though it is my little black book."

Light didn't know what possessed him but he saw the chance and sprang towards Hashimoto and the book in his hand. That book was important, he knew that much. Hashimoto, shocked by the sudden movement, turned towards Light and started pointing his gun directly at the youth. His motions were hindered by the bolt of pain running through his leg as Matsuda fired a bullet into the Hashimoto's thigh. Light reached out, one hand trying to catch hold on the man's gun arm and with the other he reached out to grab the book. As soon as his fingers grazed the surface of the paper his mind was shot through, not with a pain he'd felt before, but like he was being invaded and torn from the inside with flashing images and a bright yellow light. He gripped even harder on the book as a reflex, pulling it out of the surprised man's hand. Light fell to the floor next to V's body, his hand still curved around the book, the pages now tinted and slippery with the ruby red of the blood on the floor. As he took in the pictures flashing through his mind - too much, too fast, like a fast forward of a tape - he remembered, and wanted to laugh. He heard a click above him and lifted his eyes to see Hashimoto pointing a gun straight into his face.

"Shoot him, somebody!" Light shouted. It couldn't end now. Not like this. Almost in slow motion he saw Hashimoto turn from Light to the body of V at his feet.

"You fucking bitch," Hashimoto yelled at the corpse, as if she could hear him. He turned back towards Light, his eyes twitching with hatred. He tossed his gun to the floor and drew another from his waistband, aiming it towards the the boy at his feet who gripped the book like a trophy. "Give me my book back, kid," he ordered. Light instinctively covered his head defensively as Hashimoto clicked the gun's hammer back and squinted as he aimed.

Darkness. The feeling of being forced to the floor before the sound of a single gunshot followed by a stretch of gunfire from behind him. He felt the pressure of a heavy weight on top of him. Upon opening his eyes, he saw nothing, heightening the sense of warmth above and the cold of the stone floor beneath him. He turned his head to the left and the brightness of the bulb shining down directly above him stabbed painfully, blurring his vision. Pressing a hand to the floor he found it too slick to raise himself. He tried to force himself up but he was prevented by something which held him down.

When Light drew his hand across his eyes to shield them, he saw that it was dripping with a shining, viscous red. He looked down on himself in panic. His clothes were dark with blood. Whose blood? His head throbbed and his eye closed because of some irritant seeping into it. He rubbed his free arm against it and curled a little, like an embryo, growing, and waiting to be born.

The weight was lifted from Light and he was turned to see his father above him who cradling his head.

"Light, are you hurt?" Soichiro asked.

"I... I don't know," Light answered.

"Oh God, the blood!" someone crie, hysterically. Light recognised Matsuda's voice even as it fuzzed in and out of his hearing in a remembrance of the bullets and the tearing memories.

In the panic which followed, a sea of desperation sounded around the womb-like building like a play for voices. Light stared up at the lamp above his head, his eyes having now adjusted. It looked like a huge moon suspended, with darkness all around it. How strange. How detached he was from the screams around him. He could have been floating, he was so insanely happy in that moment that he had to stop himself from smiling.

"Ryuzaki? L? L!" Watari called. All the other voices merged.

"Matsuda, call an ambulance!"

"They're outside. They're coming."

"Fuck! Stop the bleeding!"

"Apply pressure here."

"Oh God, Ryuzaki."

Light pushed his father's arms away. Soichiro was only holding him back but Light didn't want anyone to touch him. Everyone was gathered around a body lying face up on the ground. Watari and Aizawa pressed their hands down onto his chest. He saw a glimpse of white before it was swallowed by the growing red stain.

And there was a fire.

It spread, leaping between the old wooden pews and the balcony. Flames licking the rafters, and soon the whole place was alight. It was purgatory. Paradise had been lost and regained.

"We have to get out here! Matsuda, there's no time. We have to get Ryuzaki out of here."

"We can't move him. He'll bleed out!"

"We have to."

"Light, Light we have to go!"

"No. No wait," Light muttered as he was suddenly, brutally dragged to stand on legs that didn't seem like his own. He saw Aiber rush to L while Wedy put a shoulder underneath Light's other arm. "No, wait!" Light cried, more forcefully now, turning behind him. The scene was blazing. The flames were a backdrop to the silhouettes, the edges illuminated like shadow puppets. L lay limp in Watari's arms like a pietà before Aiber and Aizawa helped lift his body and rushed him out of the building.

Don't die, you bastard, Light thought. He ran a hand underneath his sweater.

He'd dropped the Death Note.


	10. What Difference Does it Make?

**Chapter 10 **

**What Difference Does it Make?**

_All men have secrets and here is mine, so let it be known_

_We have been through hell and high tide_

_I can surely rely on you,_

_and yet you start to recoil_

_Heavy words are so lightly thrown_

_but I'd still leap in front of a flying bullet for you_

_The devil will find work for idle hands to do_

_I stole and I lied, and why? Because you asked me to_

_But now you make me feel so ashamed_

_Because I've only got two hands_

_Well, I'm still fond of you_

_~ The Smiths_

* * *

Light leisurely opened his eyes to find a dark figure slumped in the armchair at the foot of the bed. That didn't interest him. What did interest him was were the Death Note was. He had better hide it before L -

L.

The Death Note. That's right, he'd lost it hadn't he? It had burned in the fire. Then why did he still have all his memories? He turned back to the slumped form at the end of his bed.

"Dad?"

"Thank God, Light!" Soichiro said, hoarsey, lifting his head from his hands and instantly rushing to his side. His relief was almost tangible. Using his father as a support, Light scanned the room.

"What happened?" he said, and for a second, in that hazy sea of forgetfulness, he lifted his arm expecting to find a shackle, but found nothing more than a worn shade. A faded scar of where the handcuff had once been.

"L," he said, to no one in particular.

"Just rest Light," Soichiro urged.

"Where's Ryuzaki?"

Because he wanted to see him.

* * *

When Light had convinced his father that he had, once again, returned to a blissful, dreamless state, he listened out for the soft shuffling and the gentle opening and closing of a door before he sat up. As he stood, pain shot immediately through his head like an arrowhead. Reaching up to his hairline, he was shocked to find his hair drawn back and a bandage wrapped tightly above his eyes. Tearing away the loosely woven band, he felt for the source of the pain. The skin around it was tender to the touch and he staggered for a moment before finding his balance again. Did Hashimoto shoot him? No matter, Hashimoto is dead. Kira is alive.

The second most important thing was the Death Note. But he still had his memories. If the Death Note had been destroyed then he would have lost his memories, but he could remember everything. He was Kira.

L must have it, he reasoned. L has his Death Note. He had to find it.

The room wasn't one that he recognised. He saw clean clothes folded upon a chair by a window. As he moved towards them he felt the tug of an IV from the inside of his arm. God, he was so tired of these damn things. I'll never be tied to anything again, he thought to himself, ruthlessly ripping the needle from his skin and throwing it to the floor.

Minutes later Light was walking along a corridor, trying to find his bearings. This was definitely still the headquarters, but which floor? The sunlight from the large windows was dazzling, casting a warm glow all around, like fire. It was almost like a deserted ship. No noise but that of his tread on the floor, echoing.

I'll find you eventually. I'll always find you. You found me.

You have it, don't you, you bastard. It's not yours, it's mine, and you have to give it back. I'll give you a glorious death in return. Let me have the honour of seeing you cold. Laid out with a penny on each eye. Die knowing that I've beaten you. Die knowing that you've lost.

Then, from his right, a door opened. He could make out Watari's silhouette in the doorway but he couldn't distinguish his features. His vision was still so blurred, like the world was subtly vibrating.

"Young sir," Watari's familiar voice called softly.

You, Light thought. You know where it is. Give it to me.

"Watari-san, where is Ryuzaki?"

Watari took a few steps towards him and gently guided him towards and through a door. The motion was too quick for Light's equilibrium. He wondered whether his eardrum been damaged by the shot from Hashimoto's gun and he wanted to see him die all over again. A few steps later Light was seated in a chair and his vision cleared. He saw a familiar tangle of black hair on a pillow, everything else was enveloped in white. Everything stark white. It made Light think of angel's wings.

Not dead are we, darling?

"Ryuzaki?" he breathed, standing too quickly but somehow managing to make his way over to the bed. Watari left the room without a word. Surprisingly, despite the deathly shroud and pallor, L was alive, strapped down by those familiar firmly tucked-in sheets.

"Light-kun," L whispered, his voice was a raspy breath that hadn't seen water for hours.

"I'm here, Ryuzaki. Here," Light said, gripping the hand nearest to him. It was still warm. Still warm.

"Ahhh... hello." But Light didn't reply and L looked sorry for it, like it was just another hurt he'd been expecting. "Your head," the dry lips said.

"I don't know what happened. What happened?" Light asked.

"He shot us, Light-kun."

"Yes, but what happened? Why were you shot, he was aiming for me." Then he realised. God, that scrape on his head had slowed him down in more ways than one, hadn't it? Of course L had taken the bullet. Why hadn't he realised it sooner?

"Yes. I wasn't thinking. Silly, I suppose. I hardly know myself anymore," L said taking long, lagging pauses between each succession of words. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching a weary hand to his forehead and pulled his hair in frustration. "I couldn't bear to lose you," he finished softly. He could hardly talk. His injuries obviously pained him to the point of silence. The sound of emotion lodged in his throat somewhere and made everything so much more difficult for him. Light wanted to make it stop because. Because it was ridiculous.

"Ryuzaki."

"I know. My brain functions are not … not objective. I'm sorry."

Light reached a hand, gently touching the bloodless skin of L's face, meandering up to brush the hair out of the way. L leaned into it unconsciously. Any little kindness, Light thought. "You did that for me," he said, as gently as he could. "I'll always be grateful. Thank you."

"You did the same for me," L replied, weakly, barely managing a half-smile. His eyes were opened wide, the skin around those dark orbs was more sallow than Light remembered but they were still two coals in the snow, staining the whiteness. Light leant down to kiss L's forehead which bare from the characteristic nest of crow-feathered hair.

"You're so stupid. So stupid sometimes," Light said softly, charmingly brushing stubborn strands of L's hair back. He was looking down upon him, his eyes narrow with a smile. L couldn't make them out. "Where did it hit? Here?" Light asked, pulling down L's white blanket slightly to see more of the bandage around his chest with morbid interest.

L became more a little more animated when asked to describe the havoc the bullet projectory had wreaked upon his body; It fascinated him. His weakened state meant that his words were slow and laboured. "It went right through from my shoulder and perforated the lung. Nerve and muscle damage. Some splintering of the scapula and all that that involves," L said, sounding like he wished that it was a more impressive list of injuries to justify the pain he felt.

"Nice one," Light said.

"Impressed?"

"Always."

A brief silence followed while L took the word in. So, he just needed to get shot in order to gain Light's admiration? If he'd known that he might have arranged this earlier. He basked in it for a while. Even if Light didn't mean it at all. Even if it was just another lie.

"I couldn't stop it completely though," he said reaching up towards Light's forehead where some of his hair was crisp, painted with dark, dead, dried blood. Light flinched away, covering the cut with his own hand.

"It's nothing," Light stated.

"I disagree."

Light pulled away. "Remember V?" he said, solemnly.

Silence, L stared up directly above him and closed his eyes briefly. "V had, what you could call, a death wish. She always did. I think that she was always just... waiting. Expecting it," L said. The words sounded rehearsed and clinical.

"Expecting it? You make it sound as if she went there looking for death."

"Maybe she did," L said slowly. As the words forced themselves through his lips, his mind was a cinema screen showing the narrow back of a blonde, broken woman. She said to him,"How could you have known? You're never here."

"As the atheist I know you are, that sounds almost as if you believe she's gone to a better place," Light said. L seemed to think on it for a while.

"No, but perhaps peace is darkness. Whatever it is, it stops. She's stopped. She was in great pain, you know? I never understood until now."

"Until you got shot?" Light smiled.

"Until I nearly lost something I cared for," L clarified.

What's this? A new game, my love? Light thought to himself. He could almost hear himself saying the words, but there were only in his head. But they were so loud.

"L -" he said. He looked to the floor.

"You know that I don't expect you to return these feelings. At least I know what they are now. It's enough."

Oh, this is just too smiled, in spite of himself. "Ryuzaki, I'm grateful to you. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something for you."

"It's just not like the pure, undying, self-sacrificing love that Amane-san and I share for you," L laughed, wheezing towards the ceiling.

"You've scored a few more points than Misa. She hasn't taken a bullet for me yet," Light said.

"Light-kun has high expectations of his admirers."

* * *

As Light peered at the slight indentation on his hairline, he scowled at the mirror. He'd showered, cleansed everything from his skin; L, Hashimoto, and the idiot boy who'd allowed himself to be bruised, kissed, and surrounded until he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. So he'd washed it all away. Thrown it away with the water so he could be a fortress again. But this strange mark remained. It would scar. Although it would be covered by his hair, it still annoyed him to be tarnished in this way. The scar would always be a reminder of his debt to L for saving his life, but then, it marked the moment when the tables turned in his favour. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad scar.

He covered it over all the same.

Rem was standing behind him, he caught sight of her in the mirror. Her bones were almost camouflaged against the bathroom tiles. Light's eyes fell down to the basin and calmly continued to rinse his hands while he considered his options. He couldn't be trusting. L could have, despite what he'd said, had had cameras installed in this room after all. Maybe he viewed the tapes back. Maybe he hoarded them and watched them over and over like the voyeuristic pervert that he was. No, L couldn't be trusted, which meant that he couldn't speak to Rem here. Folding the hand-towel and smoothing it over the rail, Light turned towards Rem, but without looking at her, and walked outside. He expected her to follow and never looked back to make sure. He didn't have to. She followed him as he walked up the stairwell to the roof where there were no cameras.

The roof was a podium, beaten by the wind. As soon as the door opened, the sharp air attacked Light, tearing at his eyes and hair. His clothes came to life, almost as if trying to strip themselves from his back. He turned to Rem as the wind whipped him.

"So it's true then? I'm the owner own the Death Note. I was holding it when Hashimoto died."

"Yes, Light Yagami," she answered. Was she bored or was that just the way she normally sounded? The sound carried. Her voice cut through zephyrs.

"So, it hasn't been destroyed? I don't have it," he admitted, prodding for answers. Rem remained silent. "Where is it?" he asked. Another question to be met with a world of nothing. "Rem, you're testing my patience," Light exhaled, he rubbed one arm against the coldness. Rem was just a statue. A marble nightmare of a twisted mind. She stared at him but he was beginning to think that that was simply because he happened to be in her line of sight. "Does L have it?" he tried again. Still nothing. How exactly do you threaten a shinigami? "Rem, tell me where it is. Just tell me, does L have it? I need to know." He really needed to bloody know, aside from the fact that it was freezing up there.

"No," she answered.

Oh.

"No one on the task force has it?"

"No." Her heart attack blue lips curled around the word. Light had the sense, perhaps for the first time in his life, that he wasn't liked.

The fact that L didn't have it was surprising. Light would have sworn that Watari or someone else would have picked it up, particularly since it was the reason that they went on that suicide mission in the first place. Yes, it had all gone a bit belly-up, hadn't it? Or not.

"Can a Death Note be destroyed by fire?" he asked, but he was rewarded by nothing but a blank face. Oh not this again. What does she need? Another coin in the metre or something? "Rem-"

"I do not like you, Light Yagami," she interrupted. "You are cruelty itself. I am your shinigami, but I do not have to answer your questions."

Cruelty itself? Well, that was uncalled for.

"Then why are you here?"

"For Misa."

"Well, for Misa, you have to get me the Death Note or at least a page. Something. I can't do anything for her without it."

Rem's answer was a sharp ascent. She kicked the air towards Light with her wings, the force of which knocked him back a few steps.

"Remember your promise - Free Misa," she said, ominously, before disappearing in the low hanging clouds. As she vanished, a tiny piece of paper floated down to the ground like a solitary snowflake. Light picked it up and almost laughed. It was a piece of the Death Note, but it was too small to write a full name on. What was he supposed to do with that? He slipped it in his pocket anyway, since it was too precious to leave. He might find a use for it one day.

Great, Light thought as he made his way back to the stairway. Misa, Misa, Misa. The girl is shinigami catnip. Oh but L, you disappoint me. I honestly thought that you had the book.

* * *

There had been no more Kira related deaths. No obvious ones anyway. Light eventually had to concede that it was too mammoth a task to investigate every unexpected death, even if it was just limited to Japan. To do things properly, they'd need more people, and he didn't want more people. Interestingly, since the fire there were also fewer threats and deaths which could be directly attributed to Astraea. They weren't known for being shy - they publically acknowledged their 'judgements' like sports scores. The sudden peace was disconcerting to Light as much as it was irritating. He was going to have trouble tracking them down if they were gong to avoid using the Death Note.

Watari had taken Hashimoto out with the rifle, which was surprising since rifles and kind old gentlemen with tea trays don't usually go hand in hand. Light learned later, through Aizawa, that a spark from a rogue bullet hitting the ropey, water-sodden, electric rig in the building was blamed for the fire. The burning was so fierce that there was only enough time to drag Light and L to safety before the area was completely engulfed in flames. L had described it as a divine annihilation. Lord, he was almost right.

The headquarters were monitoring events, but in truth, there was little real work for them to do. The NPA were getting testy, asking for information and progress reports. Before now, L had relayed dribs and drabs to them; just enough to keep them sweet and avoid them threatening to pull their on-loan officers, particularly Soichiro, off the case. Light suggested that someone send them word. Just a, 'Yeah, we're fine. All busy beavers here!' sort of thing, but L was ill. He fell in and out of consciousness and was hardly able to hold a glass, never mind placate the Japanese Police Force. Matsuda suggested that Light should send a message in L's stead, so Light did. He wasn't nervous because of the voice mask. He knew L's mannerisms, his syntax and pragmatics, but he hesitated over the 'This is L.'

But it gave them space. Light needed everyone out of his hair so that he could think. He liked five-year plans. He liked having clear objectives. He liked flow charts in his brain and having everything neat and tidy.

Some of the team-members took the opportunity to spend time with their families. The Kira case had been a pretty full-time job since the investigation started, and no one had had much time off work. Matsuda was occupied with managing Misa's work on her film since Mogi had been driven half-insane in his time as her 'PR'. Surprisingly, Matsuda was proving to be quite a good manager as long as he didn't stay up late at night. Only Soichiro and occasionally Aizawa stayed at the headquarters to look at deaths which might be traced to Kira. Besides that, all was peace.

Misa was unaware of the incident and Light's injuries (damn scar – he was like bloody Harry Potter!). He couldn't face the, no doubt, horrified squawking that would come from her if she found out. So he intended to keep her out of the picture just for a little while longer. It was a balancing act, he realised. He had to wait for the right time. It seemed that Misa didn't have the Death Note, which proved that his carefully constructed and foolproof plan, over which he had agonised for hours, apparently wasn't Misaproof. He hadn't spoken to Rem since that five minutes on the roof, and had hardly seen her beyond the odd fleeting shard of bone whiteness reflecting in mirrors or just around corners. One morning he'd seen her hovering outside the room in which L was sleeping. The door was open and he could picture L the way he'd left him - his head covered under a nest of blankets, one arm extending over the edge of the bed like _The Death of Marat_. So unaware that he was being watched impassively by Death. Light wanted to scream at her. What bloody right did she have to be here, to stand there like that? And because she was so completely inscrutable, like a slate wiped clean, Light wanted to lunge for her. He could feel the fibres of his muscles interlock and burn in demand for blood. However, he knew that to the onlooker it would simply look like he was suddenly taken by an urge to have a solo twenty yard sprint, so he settled for a silent and seething glare. Useless creature.

_I killed one man to save a hundred thousand._

Not yet.

In any case, when he was ready to release L to the four winds, he would find some way of giving Misa clear instructions that even _she_ could understand. She would find the Death Note he'd buried. Perhaps he'd invite her over for a spot of tea, learn L's name, and kiss him as he killed him. He'd watch those eye close forever. Light would be the last thing he'd see.

And then Light could find Astraea.

It was fortunate that fate had played a hand and that he wasn't at the mercy of Misa's ineptitude. It had been so perfectly planned. How could she have failed him so spectacularly? Even for Misa, this was mind-boggling. For the time being, he would continue to tell her on the phone how very busy he was on the case. She must concentrate on her film career for both their sakes. She never questioned it. She took it as his blessing to pursue her dreams before they married. How kind of Light. How martyr-like. It would never enter her tiny little mind that he just couldn't stand to share the same air as her.

Light spent a great deal of his time in L's room but they didn't speak very often. Light usually sat in an armchair to L's right, legs crossed elegantly to support some heavy tome he'd read while he dreamed of crowns of thorns. L often attempted to show off, distracting him by quoting long passages from memory of whatever he was reading. Light would smile accordingly. Generously.

Sometimes they played chess. Light let L play white on account of his injuries. If L started to ramble on about something then Light would kneel before him, curl an arm around L's waist and make him quiet with a skilled mouth.

But L wanted kisses and kind words and all the things which Light couldn't, wouldn't give him. Nothing was said at the times that Light brushed L off. He denied any instigation, steering them into another direction and back into the line of traffic. At some point though, when L was stronger and less like a baby animal desperate for something to cling to, Light knew that he would be questioned about it. Light had always been the most affectionate.

The team thought how touching it was for someone who had been treated so appallingly by L, to now devote so much of his time to keeping him company and be so concerned about his recuperation.

'You shouldn't feel like you have to care for Ryuzaki, Light. It's not necessary, he has Watari," Light's father had told him.

I know that it's not necessary. I'm just savouring it, Light thought_._

After a few weeks, Light and L would walk around headquarters and Light would watch L appreciate his surrounding - perhaps for the first time. L would idly trace a finger line along a marble vein in the polished walls and study the small, insignificant details, filing them away in his mind for unknown reasons. They spent a great deal of time on the vast plateau of a roof, staring up at the giant blue spread of autumn sky before retracing their steps back to L's sickbed. How domestic.

Light had not decided upon the best time to kill L. Of course, he first had to have Misa's notebook retrieved from its hiding place under the tree. He thought of Hashimoto. He must have been the person Rem gave the Death Note to on his orders. Rem. Where was Rem? Perhaps she was watching Misa, if and when she could, from her realm of death and mirrors.

He had time. He tried to reason that impatience to return to his work as Kira would be foolhardy. Although he felt that he already had L under his thumb, he wished to be more assured of devotion and trust, as well as procuring the means of removing the weedy little man without being under suspicion.

Not long after the Hashimoto incident, L's system and secrets being practically his for the taking, Light had discovered that there were potential successors to the role of L. He first learned this after hearing L and Watari speaking of the importance of naming an heir. L's brush with death demonstrated his vulnerability. Yes, it seemed that the great L was mortal and transient after all. He wouldn't live to see another winter. If only he knew. If he did, perhaps he wouldn't be so quick to escape the cutting winds on the roof. Light could stand it. Nothing touched him now.

For his own entertainment and to gratify his thirst for vengeance, Light had long decided that it wasn't enough to simply kill L. He had to destroy him. It seemed to Light that the ultimate triumph would be to take his place, literally _become_ L. He wasn't sure whether this would be preferable to creating his own great detective alias, but he'd recently started dropping ever so subtle hints to L that working with him as L would be a viable idea. He reasoned that as delicate as the hints were, L would come to prefer this option instead of Light returning to university and eventually working for the NPA. Something which Light was doing his very best to further, within reason, was to encourage what he suspected to be a reliance and a deepening of feeling in poor L's heart. If executed properly, L would find any way of keep him near. Light counted on it.

* * *

As the crime scene photographs came through of the new Astraea victims, Matsuda made prints and spent most of his morning wincing at the horrific images as the printer deposited them on the tray. They depicted the bodies of the victims (now 57 and counting), mostly politicians and statesmen, their deaths caught forever in pixels. The photos showed them lying wherever they fell, before people tidied up after them. Most of the victims had, with glassy eyes in anticipation of death, taken a sharp instrument and cut symbols into their chests or arms before their hearts shuddered to a halt. These symbols were the cause of much consternation. They were what Light and L were pouring over at this moment.

Soichiro sadly regarded his son and L as they inspected their gruesome bounty so dispassionately. For L, he felt a great sadness and sympathy, suspecting that he'd been practically reared on such images to have acquired such an immunity to depictions of violence and the evil. L looked frail and pained. His skin seemed transparently thin and shadowed. He certainly wasn't in any fit state to work on the case. In fact, he didn't look as if he should be doing anything apart from sleeping and being drugged up to the eyeballs with painkillers. However, as ill-advised as it may be, L had insisted upon going over the new events with the rest of the team for the first time since the shooting. They hadn't seen him since the day after the incident when, once he'd regained consciousness and enough mental capabilities, ordered three members of the task force to search the church site and scour it for any remains; of Hashimoto, V, or of the mysterious book they'd died for. Offiicially, no one had died.

Of course, the church was completely destroyed even before the fire. It had been a shell which had stood precariously, supported only by the grace of God, who had otherwise forgotten about it. It was now, for the most part, little more than a pile of blackened stones. The ground was still hot, though sodden from the fire service's attempts to dose the inferno.

As Soichiro, Matsuda and Ide examined the area, ashy mud clung to their shoes. They searched for the bodies primarily, but they had obviously been all but incinerated and ground into the earth by falling debris. A forensic team was requested to do a proper search as soon as possible. Matsuda was deeply affected by the whole affair. The lack of control of the situation had shook him to the point that Soichiro worried that he would request to leave the task force altogether.

But it was Light that worried Soichiro the most. He had changed so much since his arrival at HQ, becoming morose rather than simply being the quiet boy he had always been. His intelligence weighed heavy upon him. He wasn't living the life that Soichiro had wished for him. When he drove back home to his home without a son, he often saw boys Light's age walking and laughing with friends. But Light had never been like that, not really. Soichiro hated himself for having a favourite child, but Light was his, and from the moment he first saw him. He could hardly believe that he had produced such a glorious boy, and he wanted to make the world a better place for him. His son's seriousness hadn't been something he worried about before. Light had drive and direction and would make him proud. Everything he touched, he excelled at, and was bound for greatness. That he wanted to follow in Soichiro's footsteps had been flattering, because Soichiro was sure that he could aim even higher. But now he wondered why his children were so different. Sayu wasn't the most intelligent child in the world, but she was warm and loving, something he felt, especially of late, Light was not. Since the events in the church, Soichiro noted with concern that his son spent most of his time with L, as in, he actually chose to stay with L. While Light would occasionally make fleeting visits to the office while L slept, even then he seemed to be eager to return to his self-enforced seclusion. A veil of interest thinly concealed his boredom and coldness. Soichiro wondered whether L's impersonal aura had spread to Light like a disease. He seemed to have lost all interests outside casework, being less like an eighteen-year-old and more like Soichiro himself; a slightly jaded, deadened knife. Someone fighting for something undefinable in the face of adversity, because his pride wouldn't allow otherwise.

L, on the other hand, at least before he was injured, had become more talkative than anything since meeting Light. He made wry observations and displayed a degree of friendliness, though all his effort was for the benefit of, and apparently unappreciated by, Light.

Yet, now that Light _could_ go home, he chose to stay here. Soichiro was proud of Light's sense of commitment and moral obligation, but it didn't seem right that he had become so reclusive. Now he worked on the case late into the night and stayed up until the early hours with L. Becoming a clone of L. Soichiro had made it clear that he had concerns about Light working on the investigation to such a extent, but both Light and L ignored such worries with a hurtful disregard.

If Soichiro ever decided to visit his son before leaving for the night, he heard the voices hush as he approached the door. He felt that, no, he couldn't knock. He'd be interrupting. He felt excluded whenever he was near them, and saw how efficiently they worked together. Watching his son wordlessly pass Ryuzaki classified documents and sugar bowls with equal importance was, somehow, heartbreaking. Soichiro felt unnecessary and above all, unwelcome. He saw how they looked at each other sometimes, like they had found greatness in a world of nobodies. He thought, sadly, perhaps he didn't know his own son at all.

* * *

A series of photographs arrived in which five victims had each etched a line of English deep into their skin with fountain pens, the effect being less repulsive than the other victims who had knife inflicted wounds. These looked like a badly inked tattoo. L placed the tip of his finger upon the collection of prints and rotated them like a magic trick, arranging them to reveal the message in full.

_hadst thou sought the whole earth_

_there was no one place so secret_

_no high place nor lowly place _

_where thou couldst have escaped_

_this is the scaffold_

"It's a bastardised quotation from 'The Scarlet Letter' -" L broke off abruptly. Light the disbelief in L's manner; the tell-tale tightened grip of hands around knees. There was something more to this, L had seen it, and it was meant for him alone. Light felt a sudden stab of jealousy, partly because someone else was playing games with L in his stead and leaving messages to communicate directly to him. But, for the most part, he was angry that he couldn't for the life of him understand what hidden message could rattle L so much.

"Hey, Ryuzaki," Light asked, gently.

"Yes, Light-kun," he replied, as if a spell had been broken.

"Are you reading something into this beyond the obvious?"

"No, it's just a statement of their perceived power and judgement. That and it reveals a partiality to historical romances," he joked, weakly.

"Are you lying to me?"

"What?"

"What does this _mean_?" Light asked, pointing at the photographs arranged on the desk.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"This is a message to you and I think that you understand what they're saying."

"You're mistaken, Light-kun. I apologise if I gave you that impression. I'm not sure how I did."

Light nearly burst out laughing in L's face. Did L really think that he was still the unreadable mystery? They had thrown shards of glass at each other's hearts for months upon months and Light studied and treasured every nuance of mood of that remarkable frame. He knew better than anyone what was beneath the ice. He knew because he had initiated it all in the first place. L was his emotional claim and Light thought it was hilarious that L didn't realise it himself. "Because I know _you_, Ryuzaki," he said. "Keep it to yourself or not. Whatever. As long as you know that you can't hide from me anymore."

L watched Light's sharp profile for a few moments, suitably unsettled. It wasn't just because of the message, he was now unhappy in the knowledge that after months of Light despairing that he didn't understand him, apparently he could suddenly read him like a book. "What do you mean by that exactly, Light-kun?" L asked.

"What's this symbol?" Light said, frostily changing the subject. He pointed to a photograph which showed a prominent Greek politician lying face down on the floor of his home, his arm engraved with a series of bloody gouges. L zoomed in on the image to reveal a series of slices; the characters, 'νέμειν', could be made out amid the gore.

"Oh, that. 'Nemein'. Greek for 'give what is due'. It's probably the origin for the name, 'Nemesis', the Greek goddess of rightful indignation and retribution. _Divine_ retribution." He paused for a moment, thumbing his lip, his eyes flickering over the crimson image. "It seems that Astraea are becoming tired of waiting."

"Waiting? You call this waiting?" Light said, abrasively.

"Consider this, Light-kun: Astraea is the goddess of _human_ justice. It was her mother, Themis, who was the goddess of divine justice. If Kira styled himself as a god with divine rule, Astraea were willing to submit to him. This is a message to Kira, they obviously think that he knows his classics. What they're saying is that they have waited, holding back from waging war against the world _because_ of Kira. But, as Kira has not appeared, this latest development may be their first step in taking on the mantle of divine sovereignty in his stead."

"They can't do that," Light said.

"Why not?"

"Well, it's stupid, isn't it? Shouldn't they wait for Kira?"

"You think that they should wait for Kira? You sound like you admire him."

"Don't be stupid. Kira's the reason I'm stuck here with you, isn't it? Yeah, I'm a big fan of Kira. No, what I mean is, what if Kira disapproves? Don't they fear his retribution?"

"Glad you cleared that up with conflicting statements. In answer to your question, I suppose that Astraea are thinking that if Kira is a god, then he has had more than enough time to extricate himself from whatever fix he's in. Namely, Astraea believes Kira to be in my hands and what kind of god can be held prisoner by a mere mortal?"

Light averted his gaze to another photograph, commenting in as unconcerned a tone as possible, "And they can't kill you."

"Light!" Soichiro gasped in surprise at his son's callousness.

"No, Yagami-san. Light-kun makes a fair point," L said, without taking his eyes from Light's down-turned face, "My death would be beneficial to Astraea, as it would be to Kira and, yes, a great number of people. I have at least 126 contracts on my head that I am aware of. However, Astraea appear to share the same abilities and the same constraints as Kira. They cannot kill without a name and face, and, figuratively speaking, I do not exist. Though my identity has been compromised of late for this case, my image is not on any record, nor is my name. Not even you know my name, do you, Light-kun?"

Light looked up at the question with eyes which were at once hurt and defiant. Soichiro, standing directly behind his son's chair was almost grateful for Matsuda's interruption of the intense staring contest going on between the two brainiacs.

"Chief, another broadcast!" Matsuda said, rushing forwards. All eyes turned to the main screen, the too familiar blindfolded Astraea bearing down upon them.

"People, these times of dread are short-lived. For peace and goodness we must unite. All peoples under one banner. There will be a planet with no tolerance of wrong doings. Bring the stars down from heaven. The world need not be a place so unjust that the angels turn away, sickened by human greed and thirst for destruction. Now truly is a race of iron. The evil will purged by the fire of atonement. The innocent have nothing to fear. These judgements are celestial. It was decreed that those who oppose our Great Work must be felled. Do not mourn them, for they chose their own fates and did not heed our warnings.

"Astraea is the enabler. Soon, the world shall be peace."

The video ended with a curved half-moon.

"A race of iron," L mumbled. Opening up a programme on his computer he opened what looked like an electronic book of 'Work and Days' by Hesiod and almost immediately found what he was looking for. "'For now truly is a race of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day. Strength will be right and reverence will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the worthy man, speaking false words against him, and will swear an oath upon them. Envy, foul-mouthed, delighting in evil, with scowling face, will go along with wretched men one and all. And Nemesis and Respect, shrouding their bright forms in pale mantles, shall go from the earth, forsaking the whole race of mortal men, and all that will be left by them to mankind will be wretched pain. And there shall be no defence against evil'."

"They do genuinely believe that they're the good side, don't they?" Matsuda said.

"Yes, Matsuda-san, they do." Aizawa replied.

* * *

**A/N**. It's scary how easy it is to write such bonkers propagandist tosh. It's really simple - just try not to make any sense and that's a bingo! I'm chuffed that I got the word "felled" in there and that it wasn't in relation to a tree. Anyhoo...

**Bibliography/Disclaimer/Howzedoozywotzit**

"I killed one man to save a hundred thousand." - Charlotte Corday's defence of her assassination of Marat.

I absolutely swear that there's a reason for all the quotes but this next one is especially important, the 'scaffold' part especially. The lines from "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorne are spoken by Dimmesdale in Chapter 23. I had to alter them slightly. The original line reads:

"'Hadst thou sought the whole earth over,' said he, looking darkly at the clergyman, 'there was no one place so secret,—no high place nor lowly place, where thou couldst have escaped me,—save on this very scaffold!'"

Freaked L out a bit. Hmmm...

Finally, the loooong extract was more or less lifted from Hesiod's "Works and Days" (l.170-201). I removed or changed very little.


	11. I Want a Boy For My Birthday

**Chapter 11**

**I Want a Boy for My Birthday**

_Under the iron bridge we kissed_

_and although I ended up with sore lips_

_it just wasn't like_

_the old days anymore_

_no it wasn't like those days_

_am I still ill?_

_Still Ill_ – The Smiths

* * *

"You haven't loved anything in your whole life."

Light had to fight against his immediate, truthful reaction to the accusation and come up with what he should say. What would be acceptable? Was it true? Maybe. Maybe not. That completely depended upon your definition of love. But convention says:

"That's not true, I love my family. And there was that girl behind the bike sheds. Oh fair Kimiko, where are you now?" Light said, wistfully.

"You say the words but they are meaningless. Everything you say is poison," L stated, his voice was a stormcloud and utterly miserable.

What? Hold on, what happened there?"Where did that come from?" Light said, lowering his paper across prince-like crossed legs. L simply hitched up both of _his_ legs in retaliation and inverted himself, curling up like an angry hedgehog. The dark eyes over coal black streaks stared in the vague direction of the window. Light smiled, sadistically. He couldn't help it. "Are you jealous of fair Kimiko, Mei, Shiori and the rest of them?" he asked. "Oh no, not Misa! You must be feeling shitty if you're jealous of Misa. Or, is it because your shoulder is hurting you and your painkillers aren't touching it?" He fluffed out the broadsheet and looked very pleased with himself as he resumed reading once he gauged that the situation was just a result of minor L huff.

"I don't need a tally of your many, many girlfriends," L replied sulkily.

"Good, because I can't remember the names of most of them."

"You don't like people, do you, Light," L was leaving off the honorific for some reason. It was unnerving.

"They're OK in small doses. Some more than others," Light replied, truthfully, "Why?"

"I'm trying to understand you."

"That's nice. Feel free to ask me all the ridiculous questions you have. I'm here all day." Light's eyes flicked up to L's moody form. No response. After setting his paper aside with a tired sigh, he walked over and lay directly behind L, slightly curving around the figure. He propping himself up on one elbow so he could study L's profile and how his nose upturned ever so slightly to a point, like a pixie's and... What the fuck was he thinking? Pixies? "I was just joking," he said, reassuringly, gently circling L's painful shoulder with a fingertip. "You're such a woman nowadays. Very labour intensive."

"Am I now? Isn't that rather sexist? In any case, I'm thrilled that you're so sympathetic. I really am so very lucky," L replied.

"Truth," Light conceded, raising his hand to L's nape where fine tendrils glanced his fingertips. "The truth is that you're the only person who has ever made me feel anything. Compared to you everyone else seems, well, a bit pointless."

"What do you feel? Intense contempt and animosity?" L said, the words muffled against his knees.

"Ha, in the past. Right now it's irritation." Light had to actually crawl over L to face him. He felt a quiet flutter of pleasure as he watched how L's eyes followed his face as if it were a magnet. "Please, Ryuzaki," Light whispered, pulling at the detective, unbalancing his pose, freeing his head from the fort of his knees, into a kiss.

After a few moments, Light felt L give in, any resistance dissipated as quickly as his anger - whatever that was about. He'd worry about it later. For now, the bomb had been diffused. Crisis averted. L dragged a lazy arm around Light's back and head, dragging him further in and crushing their bodies together. A feeling of panic gripped Light. It was too much. He felt too much, he felt smothered. Kira was drowning. He pulled himself away.

"Now, let me read the paper, OK?" he said, cheerfully, putting his mask back on. He jumped up from the bed, stalking across the mattress and jumping gracefully back his chair to continue his reading.

"I'm not Misa, Light," L said sternly. "You can't just waive me aside."

Ooops_. _"What do you want then, oh great detective? How can I pacify you? I live in fear of your wrath because it usually ends with handcuffs and punch-ups," he said jokingly, while turning pages.

"A fuck is in order."

Light looked up from his magazine, eyes shining in mischievously. That, he could accommodate. "I concur."

* * *

"What is your relationship with Ryuzaki, Light?"

"What do you mean?" Light said, barely hiding his panic. "He's a friend, Dad. I owe him my life. I'm grateful to him and I'm learning a lot on this case."

His father shifted on the spot. Light had never seen him like this. It was almost as though he had an extremely infuriating itch in his nether regions. "Matsuda saw you kissing Ryuzaki," Soichiro whispered like it was a secret, which it was.

Shit.

"Oh that. Nothing to worry about, Dad. We were just messing around," he said, with a just-about-believable tone of disinterest. He brushed his hands over his jeans as if ironing out creases. For some reason, 'just messing about' didn't seem to put Soichiro at ease.

"I know you're a difficult age, son, and that you've been through a lot lately, but -"

"Really, Dad, it was nothing. Let's not do the pep talk thing. I'd tell you if there was anything worth saying."

"Has Ryuzaki made any advances towards you?"

"No! Dad, please. It was a dare kind of thing, that's all. I'll explain to Matsuda if you want."

"That's not necessary."

Oh my God. Awkward.

* * *

"Ryuzaki! Bad. Bad. Bad."

"What is it, dear heart?" L sing-songed from the bed, typing away with his one usable hand since the other was still stuck in a sling.

"Matsuda saw us kissing and he's told my father and probably everyone else and Dad has just questioned me about it and –" Light said without drawing a breath. Actually, he doubted that he'd taken a breath since his father confronted him five minutes before. Flinging himself onto the bed in despair, his hands gripped either side of his head as if he was trying to crack it open and end all this hideousness.

"Oh dear," L said, gazing down at Light who was prostate beside him.

Light's head snapped upwards to look at him, "It's your fault. Sort it out."

"I fail to see how it's my fault. Kissing is a two-sided thing, usually," L replied, nonchalantly.

"It was probably when you assaulted me in the hallway."

"Which time? Oh, and 'assaulted'?"

"You're always groping me in public places. No have absolutely no shame or … Oh God, I feel sick," Light said in dismay, standing up dramatically.

L pointed helpfully. "Bathroom!"

"You need to sort this out. I don't want everyone thinking that we're living in some poofy turret here," Light gesticulated wildly.

"A poofy turret?"

"GOD, this is just awful."

"Calm down Light-kun. First, vacate your bowels, then we'll discuss this reasonably and without reference to poofy turrets."

"I'm not going to be sick, I'm just so embarrassed that I want to throw myself from a tall building. You're all right! No wonder you're all right. I mean, you have everything to gain from this."

"How so?"

"Well, look at you. You're all … " he motioned up and down with his hands.

"I don't understand you," L replied.

"I am not a poof," Light stated firmly.

"Are you sure about that?"

"The fact that I've slept with you -"

"Many times."

"However many times."

"I can draw up a pie chart,"

"Really, no pie ch… Urghh, no charts. The fact that I've slept with you does not equal poofiness. Whatever this is, it's nothing to do with that. The fact is that – "

"We're both poofs."

"NO! Whatever this is is purely because that we feel like we've met our intellectual equal. This is obviously not an everyday kind of meeting, it's noteworthy for both of us. Also, you are really annoying and when I'm angry I want to punch you in the face, but I must have ended up kissing you instead because you made me have a nervous breakdown. It's degraded into some twisted kind of obsession and physical act. I don't know why!"

"Light-kun-"

"Who am I kidding? I know why!" Light shrieked, suddenly. "It was because of you and that bloody CHAIN! Handcuffs, bathrooms, showers, toilets, bed! Oh my GOD!"

"Light-kun, again, I must urge you to calm down. You're talking, well, rubbish, quite frankly. I can imagine that Yagami-san confronting you on this delicate matter would be embarrassing to you, but really, it's nothing to be concerned about. I'm sure that you found an appropriate lie to placate both your father and everyone. Despite what you say, I don't particularly want Watari knowing about this, although I couldn't give a toss about anyone else."

"Humph. I didn't lie, I said we were fooling around."

"Which is actually true. Well done, Light-kun! Did that hurt?"

"Matsuda is so stupid."

"He is, yes. Anyway, don't worry about it anymore." L resumed tapping on his laptop, every so often throwing back a couple of dinosaur shaped sweets into his mouth. Light settled onto the bed beside him, dazed. "Pterodactyl, Light-kun?"

Light stared briefly at the garishly coloured and badly moulded gelatine abhorrence which was being offered to him. "I mean it though," he said, "I'm not a poof. I only sleep with you. No one else."

"That's sweet of you and accurate in the respect that there is not much of a selection of people of either sex for you to ravish here, is there, Light-kun?"

"Exactly! Exactly! How could I? I'm trapped here. How could I have a girlfriend?"

"Well, there's always Misa-san. I'm positive that she'd oblige."

"What? Fuck, no. I'd rather sleep with Watari."

"I'm sure that he'd be terrified to hear that. But yes, now that I know that you've had sex with me because of your nervous breakdown which I wasn't aware you were having, it all makes sense. Not that I mean to put myself down. Once bitten by L then – "

"Don't be lewd. It's just that I've never met anyone else like you. I'm not flattering you, it's just a fact. I can accept it," Light said as if trying to convince himself more than L. "I don't go for men."

"Think that if it makes you happy. But for you to say that having lived your long eighteen years of life on this earth and that I'm the only man that you'd 'go for', well, despite it not being your intention for your words to have this effect, I am flattered."

Light had risen from the bed and had started pacing, apparently frightened by his own words. Pacing was never a good sign. It always made L feel seasick. "Ryuzaki, maybe we could go away for a while."

L barely held back a smile at Light's random thought pattern. "Away?" L repeated, just to make sure that he heard right.

"Somewhere. Away."

"Somewhere, away. Well, let me just get us a travel brochure and book a return trip there immediately."

"No, maybe Russia. That's far away. I need to put a sea between myself and this situation."

"Ah, you want to visit the tomb of Stalin, the forerunner in the mass murder stakes. Maybe get some tips?"

"Shut up, L!" Light's eyes burned with a sudden fierceness. He stared at L before he turned and thundered into the bathroom. The door banged shut. L heard Light forcefully slam his back against the other side of the door and the pathetic, rough, internal sound as he slid to the floor. L sighed. He walked to the closed door.

"Light-kun. My apologies. I know that we're not supposed to talk about the mass murdering. Light-kun?" There was no answer but he persevered. "Please open the door. I don't like it when you're angry with me." He crouched to the floor and sat, leaning against the door. "I'm sorry Light-kun. I misjudged your humour. How can I make it up to you? Do you want Matsuda to be killed? I would not be at all adverse to that. Just say that word." Still nothing. "Light-kun, if you wish to go to Russia then I shall take you there, although I must point out that it's very cold and there are many Russians. Light-kun? Have you died? Your silence is intense. Only people in a holy order with a vow of silence have taken things this far. I love you dearly. I have never met anyone to sulk for quite so long once over the age of six. Light-kun? I'm getting a bit worried about you now."

"St Petersburg," Light replied, his voice distant and fogged as the sound travelled through the door after echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

"Why this sudden need to travel? Don't tell me that you're tired of our cosy poofy turret?"

"I'm not a poof!" Light shouted through the door. L gauged that Light was approximately positioned as a mirror image of himself, only with a door separating them.

"So you said. Now, please come out of there, Light-kun. I'm worried that you might do something rash like Lord Castlereagh." There was the sound of hesitant movement from the other side and then a the turn of the door handle. L took an involuntary intake of breath when Light's face returned into view. "Well done, Light-kun."

"St Petersburg," Light said, moodily, as if this was a deal-breaker and if it wasn't agreed upon to his satisfaction then he would live in the bathroom forever.

"But, Light-kun, we are working on a case right now which is, if you haven't noticed, rather pressing. Besides, the fact is that you are still a suspect of sorts. How am I supposed to explain the need to take you for a sojourn to the Winter Palace?"

"Yes, well obviously not right now but one day. St Petersburg."

"Very well."

"And make it clear that it's not some poofy holiday."

"But it will be a poofy holiday. I have no intention of there being a lack of poofiness on this holiday."

"Enough of the poofy now," Light said tiredly, coming back out of the bathroom. L stood.

"Very well. I'm going to kiss you now, ok?" L said.

"Ok. No, wait. What about England? I want to see where you grew up too."

"Absolutely nothing to be gained from that, Light-kun, except intense boredom and an umbrella."

"Please. I know nothing about you."

"You know that I was born in Russia and spent some time in England, which, surprise surprise, are destinations on your holiday wishlist. Truthfully, there's very little to know."

"Lie."

"Not a lie. Really, my life is has been uneventful, punctuated only by one case after another."

"That sounds eventful," Light argued.

"Enough of this. I want to kiss you now."

"No, you need to go and tell my dad that this is all your fault and that you tripped and fell into my face so that it looked like we were kissing but we weren't. You need to tell him that and make it good. Tell him that you're a monk. Tell all of them. Call a meeting. Tell them that you're married and find me physically repulsive. No, they'd never believe that. Tell them -"

"Right!" L said, and, like a referee, held one official looking finger straight up in the air due to a lack of a red card. "Enough of that. Enough of this. This is a reaction to the confrontation with your father. You want to run away and for me to make excuses for that fact that Matsuda is a complete tit. You shouldn't be embarrassed that we love each other."

Light's eyes widened in horror and unexpectedly flung himself out of harms way, back onto the bed, as if to avoid a knife that L had thrown in his direction. He turned his face into the pillow. "I don't love you," Light told the pillow. L used his powerful deductive skills to reason that _everyone_ loved pillows, so he chose to completely ignore Light's last statement.

"Light-kun."

"What? I'm tired! I'm tired and you're a fucking parrot - 'Light-kun! Light-kun! Light-kun!'" Light said with more purpose while at the same time dragging an arm over his head in an attempt to either muffle the sound or hide himself. Either way, it was not going to work.

"Light-kun, I don't believe that you're tired. You slept for seven hours which is more than enough for anyone, especially someone who's done nothing but drink coffee and read the paper. Light-kun?"

"WHAT?" he forced out, lifting his head to face L, his eyes alive with annoyance, "This is a major crisis for me. My father thinks that I'm sleeping with you!"

"But you are."

"I know that but I don't want anyone else to! And I'm tired! Arguing is tiring. Sex is tiring. Listening to you is TIRING! I want to sleep and not hear you droning in my ear. What exactly do you have to say anyway? Is it important? Hmmm? Is it full of dreadful import?"

"I do love you," Ryuzaki stated, happily. He crawling across the bed and lay his head on Light's stomach.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sleep here."

"I don't want you lolling on me like some great dead fish! Get off and go to your side of the bed," Light shouted, as if to a disobedient dog, but there was only a slight snuggle in answer. "And stop it with the sappy comments," Light commanded. "You're full of it and it's revolting." He meant it, but it still sounded rather weak-willed.

"Please be quiet and go to sleep, Light-kun. I'm tired now."

"But I thought that you were going to kiss me."

"Oh, yes. I was, wasn't it?" L smiled.

* * *

"Light, I'm not sure you realise how I feel for you. I'm having trouble comprehending it myself so I shouldn't really be surprised that you don't either. Despite this, I'm strangely annoyed that you don't. This business is quite confusing."

Light gently swept his fingers across L's arm which was currently wrapped around his torso. The sudden tenderness of the action caused L to flinch and look up at Light, his eyes wide and staring. "L, this is lust, if anything. There's really no need to analyse it into more than it is. It's like I said before, we're fascinated by each others minds, but brains can't have sex, or meld or whatever, apart from in _Star Trek_. Anyway, luckily our bodies are attached to our brains and that's why we do what we do. It's the closest our brains will get to melding. You don't need to dress it in fancy clothes. It is what it is. It was a good lay."

"A good lay, Light-kun? What vulgar slang you use nowadays. Anyway, I don't believe that this is a simple, primal affair, Light-kun, and neither do you. You're avoiding having to deal with potential self-revelations, which is why you're reacting the way you have to your father. You can't seriously think that he'd disown you, he thinks that you're the messiah. But no, you have a completely different way of dealing with things. Instead of acting like a well-adjusted human being with some respect for other people, you've decided to convince yourself that you're the straightest man since Warren Beatty, despite the blatant evidence to the contrary."

Light felt all shaken out and boneless. He was also in a bloody good mood for once so L's preaching wasn't going to be rewarded by rising hackles. "You're saying that because you're lusty. Full of lustiness like a wandering Tudor minstrel. All we've done today is have sex. Sleep, sex, spar, sex, tea, sex -"

"Anxiety attacks," L added.

"Followed by yet more sex," Light concluded. "That's all we've done. I admit, I'm not complaining, I think I could represent my country in the sex olympics now and go for gold, but there's work to do. Actual work, remember that? Work? Because we've done none of that. People have probably died because of it. People are dropping like flies due to our inability to keep our trousers on. We could do something about it, but no, you have to use whatever mental instabilities you think I have to excuse the fact that we're acting like hormonal idiots." Light added some pressure behind his touch upon L's arm as if to say, 'Enough of this. Stop joking about, there's a good lad.'

"I don't believe that that's wholly true," L replied, mournfully.

"Well, I should know better than anyone that you'll believe what you choose to believe and there's no way that I or anyone else will convince you that you're wrong. If you're in love with me," he could hardly say the words without laughing, "then, well, I guess I'm flattered. Just don't expect much in return, no sweeping love story, no Shakespeare quoting. As far as I'm concerned I'm just -"

"Passing time," L finished, sadly.

"That makes it sound cruel. It's more than that, but you understand, don't you? This is... weird for me."

"I'm well acquainted with that weirdness, Light. Besides, you're eighteen. You think that there's more to life."

"More to life than this poofy turret? Don't be silly," Light said, closing his eyes.

"No, really. You'd leave. If you could, you'd leave."

Alarmed, Light opened his eyes and inclined his head towards L's. "Why are you saying this?"

L hesitated, shifting ever so slightly. "Because the Light I knew before we left that church, before Hashimoto, that Light would have told me that he'd never leave."

I still wouldn't, Light said inwardly. Oh, and I _love_ you. No, it's not like the old days anymore, is it L? You did notice. You know, and you don't care. You wonderful, weak, broken little thing.

Shit.

"What do you mean, 'that Light'?" he asked. This isn't_ Invasion of the Body-Snatchers_, Ryuzaki. I'm still here. It's just that it's been a difficult time. The whole thing was an epic fuck up." L shivered against the words. "It wasn't your fault," Light assured him, "I didn't mean it like that. Things go wrong, and things _did_ go wrong. You went all heroic, like Danger Mouse jumping infront of bullets and it just went wrong."

"You did. You went all Danger Mouse. You ran at a Yakuza boss who had a revolver pointed right at your head," L parried.

"Yes, well, we needed the book,"

"We didn't need it that much," L said, softly, as if he hadn't intended to say it out loud at all.

"Liar. You wanted that book as much as I did. You would have done the same thing if you were in my position. The bastard had the book, V was dead, we're standing around like a line of ducks, he's focused on you, I saw an opportunity so I took it." Light said, matter-of-factly, massaging between his eyebrows with his fingertip. "In any case, it doesn't matter now. The bad guy's dead, the book - whatever it was – is gone. That was the objective for you, I suppose. Yet another win. Yet another star on your badge. Well done, L."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Light," L replied with the emotionless manner and tone he tended to use when hurt.

"Yeah, well you shouldn't have stolen my research. You essentially told me that I was a complete waste of space and made me feel stupid, again, and all that time you were using my lead and planning some secret agent crap without me."

"I hope that you're not suggesting that if I'd included you from the start then things would have gone differently."

"Yes, I'm saying that. It would have gone differently." You did fuck up, he thought. It is your fault. You're the reason I lost the Death Note. "But, as I said," Light sighed, "it's water under the bridge and now the bridge has burned down as well, so no use crying now."

"I know that it's my fault," L admitted.

"I told you that it wasn't. It was a result of a combination of contributing factors that -"

"Please, don't patronise me."

"Well don't be pissed off because you didn't get your way. Just because I did something spontaneous so you couldn't approve of it in writing beforehand."

"Hashimoto was alone. There was no need for you to do something so rash and... _bloody stupid_. We were armed, we outnumbered him, and yet you thought that it would be best to walk up to a maniac, maybe have a nice chat and then what? Hope that he'd give you the book as a thank you gift? I just have no idea what was going through your brain then. I cannot conceive of why anyone, but especially you, would do something like that. I'm 'pissed off', Light, because you blame me. And I do too."

"Oh shut up. I can't fight with you while we're horizontal and not wearing any underwear. I'm not indulging your martyr complex. I have absolutely no time for it, L. None. Anyway, it wasn't like that. I blame everyone else. Their reactions were slow."

"Nobody was expecting you to go suicidal!" L said, becoming a little frantic. He began to make an effort to push himself away from Light.

"Ok, ok. Stop it now," Light eased, stuck somewhere between losing his patience and stroking L's hair calmingly like a parent would placate a child.

"We haven't spoken about it, have we?" L said, fighting to regain his composure and allowing himself to be held in place by Light's arm. He missed the simplicity of being the heartless Tin Woodsman.

"Shhhh...yes we have."

"Not really."

"There's nothing to say."

"Everything's changed," L said, sadly.

"For things to stay the same, they have to change."

L turned his eyes to Light for the first time since this 'talk' started. "That makes absolutely no sense," he said, unblinking.

"Then let's leave it now, eh? Shall I get you some tea?" Light said cheerfully, distracting L quite proficiently with a gentle nuzzle of the neck. L's breath hitched as it always did when Light drew close to him.

"Everyone thinks it's strange that you're fetching tea and cake for me," he related.

"Yeah, because you really care what they think, don't you? And I didn't say anything about cake," Light said, playfully touching L's throat with his lips, somewhere between a bite and a kiss. "You can get that yourself," he breathed hotly into his cheek.

L's injury was a new source of fascination for Light. The afternoon light lanced across the angry corona where the bullet had exited on his shoulder. Dim memories of violet and sage-coloured bruises still remained and Light's fingers travelled over them, following them with dew-drop kisses. L stared at the ceiling as though completely detached as Light's fingers travelled across to the jut of L's adams apple, down to his sternal notch. His fingers curved, like he was drawing him, following the prominent outline of a collar bones until, as though seized by some sudden ardour, Light gripped L urgently and drew himself above him, intruding into his view of the ceiling.

"Hello," L smiled weakly, eyes softening for the sight of him. Light paused, his own quicksilver eyes became shocked and troubled, and L saw it. After a moment, Light leaned down and kissed L. It was the barest of touches, a thin offering. He was waiting for L to comply and take over, which of course he did, at which point Light drew away. This was becoming a common theme. L sighed and opened his eyes to see Light grinning at him, coldly.

Light was battling against something; he had been since the church. L had noticed, the first time Light visited him in the medical room, that something awful had happened and Light wasn't the same. L's heart lurched at the coldness, the frozen idea that Light hated him for what had happened, that he blamed him and was disappointed in him. In those first few days, he experienced Light's subtle changes. Light was evasive, at times conflicted, aggressive and domineering. He had always been selfish, but even that was amped up. He was more prone to adopting what L suspected were flat-out lies without any glimpse of the mental anguish which Light would normally have suffered and protested about. His considerable charm and recently acquired deviancy, combined with his terrifying intelligence, was an invincible force which he employed as a new and brutal weapon to satisfy L and, to a far lesser extent, the task force. L wasn't blind or stupid but, despite himself, he wasn't immune to Light's seductions. It was a bitter pill. He often felt, afterwards, sometimes during, deadened, utterly empty and alone. But there were moments, like this, when Light was almost as he once was. Then L would see that flash of panic in his eyes; the uncertainty, and something like love and hate, only L never saw the outcome of internal struggle because Light would do what he was doing now. He would distance himself from L and patch up the cracks from where his heart's blood fell like tears. L would worry that whatever it was that Light was fighting, it always seemed to win out.

L felt like a corpse being viewed at a wake.

"So, tea, sugar bowl," Light said, suddenly. "I think I'll have something. Maybe Italian. What do you think? Italian? I could send Matsuda around to pick something up from L'Estasi's."

"Light-kun will have just what he wants, he's really not at all interested in my views."

"Nnnnyah," Light cooed like it was a taunt, pecking him briefly on the cheek as some consolation. "God, I have a headache after all the hysteria. Where are the non-industrial strength paracetamol?"

"I don't know. Where you left them I suppose," L replied vaguely.

"Some detective you are!" Light laughed sourly. He collected his clothes from the floor on his way to the bathroom leaving L, alone, where he'd left him. L wondered for a moment whether he would move at all until Light came back. There really seemed no point.

* * *

"We're going to play musical chairs?"

"Yes, Matsuda-san. Humour me."

"What is it, some European thing?" Aizawa said moodily watching Watari and Matsuda move chairs back to back into two lines.

"What if we sit on each other's laps?" Matsuda said distractedly, staring at the chairs with worry. His eyes, as always, betrayed him. They flickered up, giving L and Light the once over. He was obviously deeply concerned about sitting on their laps in particular.

"Well, needless to say, If we sit on each other's laps, then we have to kiss and who knows where that may lead? One of us may well be debauched and divorced in the morning. It's a game of chance, Matsuda-san," L said, one-handedly throwing a neatly wrapped parcel into the poor man's arms.

"He's kidding, Matsuda," Light whispered into Matsuda's ear.

"I know thaaaat," Matsuda stressed, while trying to wipe his brow inconspicuously with the back of his hand.

* * *

"How's Sayu, Light?" Matsuda said, leaning onto the back of Light's chair as the occupant picked over a sausage roll trying to gauge what precisely it was made from.

"Hmm? Oh, she was fine last time I saw her, Matsuda-san. You should ask my father. Apparently she's fine. Failing Maths, but fine," Light said pointedly towards L, as if to suggest that, not only was he responsible for ruining the life of the most talented and promising youth in Japan, but he was also dooming said youth's sister to a life of servitude and lost opportunities devoid of a proper understanding of algebra.

"Oh, I mean, she's still at school and everything?"

"Uh, yeah. Last time I heard. She's 15," Light said. He stared at Matsuda darkly.

"That's Light-speak for 'If you so much as think of my only sister without her wearing a double thickness boiler suit, hobnailed boots and a balaclava, I will use your empty cranium as a chalice for my piña colada,'" L said, affecting some brutish affectation for the translation.

"I didn't mean that," Light objected in L's direction before turning to Matsuda and repeating earnestly, "I didn't mean that, Matsuda-san."

"Just calling it as I see it," L explained.

"It's ok, Light. I'll, uh, I'll just be over here," Matsuda stuttered, scurrying away.

"Not funny," Light said, trying to hold back a smile as L rocked precariously on the heels of his feet.

* * *

While the rest of the task force were otherwise occupied watching Aizawa try to cover Matsuda with party streamers without waking him, Light and L slipped outside into the hallway. L was optimistic.

"Ryuzaki?"

"Yes, Light-kun?"

"I... Here." Light said, pulling a beautifully wrapped parcel out from behind his back.

"What is this, Light-kun?"

"It's your birthday, isn't it?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that there was a big cake with a candle, which you ate. Then there was the second equally big cake which you actually shared. The streamers, kazoos, and amusingly shaped balloons, the party games including but not limited to charades. Oh, and the Napoleon or Wellington party hats made of newspaper that you insisted we wear. That might have been a clue."

"I didn't eat the candle and the hats are part of a cunningly engineered psychological exam I put all my employees through."

"How does that work?"

"It's all dependent upon whether you choose to wear your hat like Wellington or Napoleon of course, Light-kun. It's very revealing psychologically."

"As is musical chairs."

"Exactly."

"Right. Well, here," Light said, proffering the present with renewed gusto like it was a burning hot plate he was quite keen on getting rid of, thank you very much. "Matsuda couldn't find me any wrapping paper at such short notice that didn't have monsters on it. I mean, you _would_ be born on Halloween, wouldn't you? I should have planned ahead, but then I thought that Halloween paper was kind of appropriate," Light pointed at the too-cute-to-live vampire print paper.

"You mean because we're fighting monsters?" L inquired.

"Uh, yeah. If you like to think of it that way."

L's wrinkled his nose at Light's good temper. It didn't stop him tearing at the parcel even so. Light leaned against the wall, waiting, scanning his burgundy ensemble and frowning at how that cake stain really was never going to wash out, was it? He picked off flecks of brightly coloured paper and the hundreds and thousands which L had thrown at him in a fit of peak.

Inside was a layer of tissue paper.

"Oh, Light-kun. So thoughtful. I like paper."

"Stop pretending to be stupid. It's under the paper," Light said with an irritable tone, reaching forwards and pulling out some of the loose sheets of rice paper.

"Of course. I beg your pardon," L said, grinning, before batting away Light's interfering hands and peeling away the last few layers of tissue himself. "Oh."

"You don't like it," Light said, sadly.

"Yes, I do. I just..." he was floored. Quite floored. His ability to speak was a thing of the past.

"I wanted you to have it," Light said.

"But, Light-kun, your father gave you this."

"It's ok, he knows. I asked him and he was fine about it. It's from him too. It's from all of us, y'know." Light scuffed his foot agitatedly on the carpet while L continued to stare at the contents of the box. "Oh jeez, here," Light said, reaching in the box and plucking out his, now L's, bronze watch. He grabbed L's wrist and drew closer to him so he could fit the timepiece snugly in place, where the chain cuff once was, and fasten the clasp.

"You don't have to give me this, Light," L said, dropping the honorific pointedly, as always.

"I know, I know. I said I wanted you to have it didn't I? If you don't want it, just say so. I won't... actually I will be offended, but I'll get over it. I won't be surprised. It is you after all," Light said, tightening the links so that the beautiful watch wouldn't hang loosely from L's wrist like a hair scrunchy. Light was trying to be annoyed and aloof, but not really managing.

"I never said that I didn't want it. I just know how much this means to you," L said quietly.

"Ryuzaki, my family has given me lots of things. I have a wristwatch for every day of the week. I want you to have this one because you like it and, well, it's all I can give at the moment. That you'd want anyway. I was going to give you a shirt but I figured that you'd never wear it and it'd be a duster by the end of the week. It's not like I can go to Shibuya or somewhere. Not without you noticing and calling in an armed squad to take me down."

"I wouldn't have called an armed squad," L said in a subdued tone, gazing at the clock face and admiring it from a whole new perspective.

"That's progress then, I suppose," Light said, teasingly.

"Thank you, Light," L said, suddenly looking up into Light's eyes intently.

"You're welcome, L," Light said softly, returning the gaze. Still holding L's wrist.

* * *

"I wouldn't have given it to you if I'd have known that you'd stare at it for hours like it was the holy grail," Light said.

L kept flipping his wrist back and forth admiring the shine of the bronze metal on his porcelain white skin. "It's the same colour as your hair, you know?" L said distractedly.

"Ryuzaki, not the time," Light said pointedly, referring to Ide and Matsuda who had overheard their remarks. In fact, apparently, they made it their business to. Sometimes Light wondered why L hadn't sacked them, well, at least Matsuda. Ide did at least make himself in some way useful. Matsuda must purely be kept in L's employ out of sympathy. Either that or because it would take too long to train someone else about his preferred deserts and for that someone to then go forth and find said deserts within in the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo. It did strike Light on more than one occasion that Matsuda's working life was not dissimilar to a really messed up pacman.

"Oh, yes. Sorry," L apologised, glancing briefly over his shoulder.

"It's ok," Light said with an unintentionally tender expression.

"Can we make it the time?" L said, unambiguously.

"We're supposed to be working. That's what we agreed. You said that we'd spent too much time 'playing silly buggers' and we had to work through the night to catch up," Light reminded him, more out of habit than genuine opposition. He'd long known that his unspoken role was to counter everything L said.

"Obviously I was joking," L said, dipping his head at a slight angle in emphasis.

"Obviously," Light repeated, smiling.

A few seconds later, L had sprung up, alarmingly fast considering one arm was still in a sling, and began making his way to the door. "Thank you, everyone, and goodnight," he told the room. He stalked his way across the office with Light following close behind. Elvis had left the building.

Light stopped at the door and realised that some explanation was necessary. "Ryuzaki has decided that we'll all call it a night and continue tomorrow morning at... at 7am, Ryuzaki?"

"9am," L modified from further down the hall.

"9am," Light said, "So, that's it. You can go home. Dad, please say hi to mum and Sayu for me?"

"Of course, Light. I always do," Soichiro said, with a bemused expression.

"Thanks. Night then," Light said, turning, and following in L's footsteps. Having lost sight of the ebony head around a corner, Light's pace quickened, smiling to himself that it was though there were magnets which had replaced the chain so they couldn't be parted for long, even if they wanted to be.

* * *

**A/N** **Disclaimer:**

Anyone watch "Peep Show"? Remember the lines that went something like this:

_"We're going to open them (the presents) in bed? What if our feet touch?"_

_"If our feet touch then we fuck, obviously."_

Genius. I totally stole that, only somehow removing the win!homoerotic undertones (my one talent?) and replacing it with stupid!Matsuda and musical chairs. Apparently I couldn't rip the line verbatim because that would be plagiarism or something. I dunno. Imagine L and Light saying the above lines but don't tell anyone I told you to.


	12. I Won't Share You

**Chapter 12**

** I Won't Share You**

_I won't share you_

_With the drive and ambition_

_The zeal I feel_

_This is my time_

_The note I wrote a__s she read, she said_

_"Has the Perrier gone straight to my head? _

_O__r is life sick and cruel, instead?"_

_ Yes._

_No._

_ I won't share you, no, I won't share you_

_With the drive and the dreams inside, t__his is my time_

_ Life tends to come and go, t__hat's ok a__s long as you know_

_ I won't share you_

_I'll see you somewhere, __I'll see you sometime, __Darling_

~ The Smiths

* * *

Kira has disappeared. With Astraea's looming threat over the world, people despaired that Kira, their saviour, had forsaken them. Violent crime was rising again and criminals were without the fear of retribution at Kira's hands. But Kira had only been sleeping.

Under the surface, he was intrigued by L and that powerful mind which rivalled his own. He was absorbed by the unapologetic cruelty of it, quite seduced by it in fact. The very good chance that he could still lose if he didn't keep up his game was terrifying and tantalising. And very entertaining.

* * *

L made his way back down the HQ office but only for short periods of time. He found it hard to work in there. His mind struggled against the agitated knot in his stomach and tensing muscles aggravated the cold ache of a line from the bullet which had passed through his chest. He'd gaze at the watch, Light's watch, on his wrist. He'd turn to his right and burnt sienna eyes would be staring at him with something which could easily have been concerned interest or cool observation. He began to empathise, realising how Light must have felt when L was at his most determined to see nothing but Kira in him. But he had seen. He'd was assured. Then he fell in love with Death. At some point, they exchanged places and now L was the one being observed. It was stifling in that room.

L would make his apologies, in truth, more of a grumble, that he would work upstairs and he'd trundle out of the room trailed by sympathetic glances.

There was always that moment when he'd climb into bed. Those long minutes when he could think of nothing but the probability of Light joining him any time soon. Percentages went out the window and all he was left with were the ashes of anticipation in his mouth.

He'd confessed to Light that he had actually dreaded returning to work along with the task force once again. It was easy to settle back into his naturally withdrawn existence during his re-cooperation time and to become consoled by quietness again. In his life before Kira he had worked, for the most part, alone in impersonal hotel rooms all over the world for years on end. He'd hire trusted or blackmailed)arms and eyes if he needed someone in the field, but it was amazing how sloppy people were and how many cases he had solved crouched on the floor next to a computer in a completely different continent to where the action was. He was notoriously possessive of his work and working with others usually ended in tears, but not his. So, endless, sleepless days were spent bleeding into each other, interrupted in regular, timely intervals by Watari who would bring a heavy document file, a tray of confectionaries, and silent encouragement. Watari was an unobtrusive man and L could rely on him to only speak when necessary. In the time between, L held onto the hush like a comfort.

Kira brought the unexpected. A bronze adolescent. A mode of love.

L looked into a mirror and hardly recognised the man whose life now all but depended upon honeyed kisses. He would stand and let Light slowly bind him with lovely thorned vines while the world died. He should be doing more. But Light would always arrive eventually and then it didn't seem so important anymore that entire continents were falling into bewildered chaos around them. Like he said, the chain was still there. They were both bound.

And so they worked in their room on thin, slate-like laptops. Their silence truly was golden as the fading sun streamed through the window in front of Light's desk. L had noted with interest how Light had taken it upon himself to rearrange the furniture, the effect being that their room had similarities to the layout of Light's bedroom in the Yagami house. Watching it being formed over the space of a few days, assembled covertly like a barricade, was quite unnerving and not helped by the fact that it went unmentioned.

L didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about the change in Light. That certain arrogance and something unquantifiable which tainted his self-assurance. It bled through his eyes, his smile, the way he moved, everything. The boy who had stumbled over words and pressed his face into pillows with that illogical, beguiling shyness for L, had evaporated. And what was left? Something more sinister in a beautiful guise. L didn't want to think about it but it was all he could think about.

* * *

"There's been an exodus from Europe to the United States," Light called over blandly from his desk. "An unannounced tanker carrying two thousand people requested permission to dock at Baltimore at around two this morning. They've been placed into quarantine and are being interviewed by officials. Another three ships are floating around the east coast too, apparently."

"Yes, I have had some statements from the authorities come through already," L replied, equally blandly, from the bed.

Light slung a cashmere clad arm around the back of his chair as he faced L. "Which of course you never thought to mention," he said.

"Unnecessary," L dismissed. "It seems that the majority, if not all, are some of the wealthiest people who have signed over all of their assets to Astraea in exchange for emigration for themselves and their families. What with this and the influx of flights, chartered or otherwise, I doubt that anyone will know what to do with the refugees. It's illogical to jump between countries as if it will be any better somewhere else."

"How very pessimistic of you."

"It does seem quite hopeless. The one chance we have against Astraea is finding out the identities of the people behind it, but they have no countries or armies target. This is the very reason that the key principal leaders are working incognito. Conquering America will be Astraea's main aim as it will among those which will pose the greatest threat of resistance, so it would be one of the last places I would go. There's really no point going anywhere. Astraea are just hacking away piece by piece in the hope that the larger countries may crumble and surrender in fear of being destroyed like Europe. The truth is, they have already from the inside. Once governments collapse and are not able to reform or act in any way, it leaves countries open to attack with not really that much effort. How exactly do you oppose an enemy that doesn't have a face? Where do you send troops and drop bombs? How do you defeat it or even begin to try if there's nothing tangible to fight? And Astraea have control over nuclear warheads now and are obviously deranged enough to use them, so yes, it's hopeless."

"Allied use of nuclear weapons for the sake of global security can't be an empty threat."

"There _is_ no global security. You would think that an attack upon countries already under Astraea's control would be something that the the allies would wish to avoid. Nuclear weapons are only supposed to be a deterrent, obviously. Besides, I am sure that Astraea have plans already in place should such a event come to pass. Or, what is more likely, a plan is in place to prevent such an event when it becomes an imminent danger. Astraea is gaining allies of their own by compromising with some countries, and it gives them overwhelming power. Wiping out the population of entire nations is not something you would want to undertake while blindly trying to destroy the leaders of the opposition. Since no one knows where they are, and it appears that they are everywhere, it's also drastic as well as pointless. I doubt that Astraea will use the nuclear weapons, but since they're untrustworthy and unknown, who wants to risk the possibility that they will?"

"Interesting theory"

"Oh, don't flatter me, Light-kun. You must have come to the same conclusion given what we know. Or have I overestimated you?"

Light inclined his head in amusement. 'Overestimated'? Heh. It was funny. More so because L wasn't aware of it. "So, sixty million people are being held to ransom," he said. "Lovely. Use of nuclear warheads would amount to genocide and worldwide anger at the perpetrators. Astraea would no doubt find this advantageous and gain support from the free-willed."

"Rather bleak, isn't it?"

"But it seems obvious to me that Astraea is based in Japan. You think so too," Light said.

"'Think' being the operative word. I can't be sure. I don't know how large an organisation this is and how far it spans. Nobody else does either. I suspect that there is a faction in Japan because of their obvious interest in Kira, who they know to be in Japan."

"Kira again?" Light sighed and leaned back in the chair. "So, worst case scenario. Astraea take over the world, what then?"

"Guess. Let your imagination run wild."

"No thank you. But maybe Astraea _is_ Kira. You've never considered that possibility? It's a bit of a coincidence that they seem to share the same ability, isn't it?"

"That's very unfair to Kira, Light-kun."

"Or maybe Kira is already in contact with Astraea. They might be allies."

"Kira would not share domination. The course of action would be that Astraea would attack and overpower certain territories, expanding until they have total control of the globe _for_ Kira. The most valuable information is that which they revealed themselves; Kira is not at the helm of this regime since they've made it clear that they believe him to be in my custody," L said, nonchalantly, watching Light mask a stiffened posture with a lazy stretch. "I therefore expected Kira to take aggressive action, either upon Astraea, or upon me. Frankly, I'm amazed that neither Kira or Kira 2 have not made themselves known. Astraea want Kira to lead them after they've done all this dirty work, clearly, so maybe you would know better than I about what would happen if that happened."

"Oh yeah, I forgot that I was Kira. Thanks for reminding me. You know, you can a heartless idiot sometimes," Light muttered.

"I only meant that you know as much about Kira as I do, so you can hypothesise this to your heart's content."

"That's not what you meant."

Anyway," L breathed out heavily, "It doesn't seem like we have much of an idea of what is going on within the countries which have already been taken over, so there aren't many hints of what to expect when it happens everywhere else. As you know, there are testimonies which confirm the satellite evidence of reconstruction. What this reconstruction involves beyond buildings is still up for conjecture. Astraea's vision is to become a hyperpower, establishing a world government under the complete hegemony of their party and creating living space for some exercise in social Darwinism. Only the chosen live. If the rules are broken then … well."

"Sounds great."

"Do you think so, Light-kun?"

"No, Ryuzaki."

"Ah, sarcasm. Your wit is so fine it completely passes me by. Oh dear," L said with a lazy smile. He snapped the laptop screen down with a click.

"You don't seem overly concerned by this impending apocalypse," Light observed.

"I suppose we'll wait and see. I have the trump card that Astraea wants, so hopefully that should slow their progress down a bit. I should just concentrate on that. Although what to do with Kira is a problem in many ways. Astraea would not be happy if something happened to him. We can only hope that Kira sees sense and uses his influence to convince Astraea that what they're doing is a bit over the top."

"What do you... Oh. I see," Light said, smiling bitterly. "_I'm_ the trump card. That's what you think? That's incredibly stupid of you."

"They want Kira."

"And you think that _I'm_ Kira."

"Let's not go into this again right now. We were getting on so well," L said, waiving a dismissive hand. "The important thing is that Astraea think that I have Kira. They either don't know where I am or don't want to do anything for fear of harming him in the process. That's why they're leaving Japan more or less unscathed. They don't know who or where he is. They suspect that I have him, but can't be sure. All they can do is wait for him to make himself known because surely he can do that much. They probably think that he's testing them and when they prove themselves to him that he'll turn up like a miracle."

"Better hope that he doesn't turn up then."

"Exactly what I was thinking. He's taking his time. I wonder why?"

"Maybe he's on holiday," Light said with a completely blank expression. "So there's no point in me reading these news reports then?"

"Only if they're interesting to you, Light-kun. Thankfully, I have other sources of information."

"You have other sources?"

"Yes, Light-kun."

"And you don't wish to share that information either."

"Not at this moment, no."

"This is all so familiar," Light said, swinging back around so L left staring at his back again.

"Don't become emotional, Light-kun. You know that I'm very grateful for your input on this investigation," L said, wearily.

"I'm not emotional. I'm just wondering if there is_ anything_ you will share. If I'm working on the case, I would appreciate the facts."

"That wouldn't be be very wise of me, would it?"

Light frowned and made quite a show of it. "Probably not, considering what you think of me. Now, as we've established for the millionth time that you think that I'm Kira and that you're uninterested in Astraea, maybe I could talk to you about something completely different and lower in the crisis stakes?"

"That would make a nice change. Fire away."

"I was thinking of contacting Misa," Light said, breezily. Out of the blue.

"Oh. How strange that you bring her up in conversation like that."

"Why?"

"No reason. Go on."

"It's just that I feel responsible for her somehow," Light mumbled, sounding pained by some inner turmoil. Perhaps it was more like trapped wind, L mused.

"Are your feelings of responsibility the reason that you have avoided any association with her?" he inquired.

"I thought that it would be for the best."

"Well, Light-kun, far be it for me to stand in the way. You should make an honest woman out of her if you feel such a weight of obligation," L said, reclining upon the pillow like a sheik waiting for his dancing girls.

"I'm not saying that I want to sail off into the sunset with her. I'm just thinking that I've been unfair to her, that's all," Light explained.

"You've been a cad, Light-kun."

"No I haven't, I'm -"

"A love-rat?" L interrupted.

"Shut up. I don't even know why I'm mentioning it to you, I knew that I'd get this response," Light snapped.

"I haven't responded."

"It's clear that you don't want me to see her."

L sat up in incredulous indignation. "Are you suggesting that I'm jealous of her?" he asked.

"I didn't say that -"

"Because I'm not," he said, firmly.

"Ok."

"Why would I be jealous of a girl who looks like she fell out of Van Helsing's suitcase?"

"I didn't say that you were jealous."

"Good, because that would have been the most insulting thing you have ever said to me, and you've hardly spared me insults."

"I didn't say it, did I?" Light smiled, "It's just that -"

"Do you know what her intelligence quotient is? I do. I didn't know that the IQ test had a negative scale."

Light laughed at L's bitchiness. "Ryuzaki, you're cruel," he said.

"Perhaps. But I'm not jealous."

"So I see. Anyway, I was going to ask if she wanted to drop by later in the week for coffee."

"Charming," said L sulkily, lowering himself back into the pillows.

"I'm going to ease her into the idea that -"

"That you're gay?" L interrupted.

"NO! Ahem, no," Light coughed delicately into his palm. "No, Ryuzaki. I'm going to say -"

"Whatever you say to stalkers? Give her a restraining order? "

"She's not a stalker. She's just... enthusiastic."

"That's one way of putting it. Considering your famously moralistic and incredibly dull reasoning, I'm surprised that you don't think that she deserves to know. You do realise that she thinks that you're practically engaged? She's probably booked a church and wears a wedding dress every evening while talking to a photo of you."

"Now you're really being ridiculous. I've never given her the impression that I'm interested in her."

"Are you sure?"

"The bottom line is that what I do or who I do it with is none of her business."

"But you _are_ going to tell her that you're gay?" L asked.

"I'm not gay," Light said, resolutely. Not the poofiness again.

"Oh, my apologies, I forgot that you're the sexual scourge of womankind. You obviously only have sex with me because you roll over in your sleep and misjudge the distance. Maybe you're sleepwalking... or maybe the term, 'sleepfucking', would be more appropriate. Maybe you're completely unaware of what you're doing."

"It happens," Light smiled.

"Oh, and yes, I haven't forgotten, you're _confused_. That comment you made about Matsuda-san's arse was merely social commentary."

"I think I was ill when I said that."

"It was a fair remark. I was as surprised as you when he removed his jacket. Matsuda really _does_ seem to hide his light under a bushel. Even so, point proven."

"No, not 'point proven'. I refuse to be pigeonholed by society, and especially not by you."

"I'm not pigeonholing you, Light-kun. Chance would be a fine thing. You're too far away and I'm too weak and feeble to get anywhere near you right now."

"Ryuzaki," Light warned.

"Fine, ask her 'round," L sulked. "Eat all my cake and drink all the coffee. It's fine. Should I have a bed installed for you? One of those drop-down ones they have in some low-cost winnebagos? The mood might take you. After all, you're patently not at all gay. Where are you going?" L asked as Light suddenly leaped up and strode towards the door.

"I'm going to call her."

"Doesn't she think it strange that you're still living in HQ, with me, and that we share a bed?"

"Ryuzaki, _everyone_ thinks it's strange that I'm still living in HQ with you. _I_ think it's strange that I'm still living in HQ with you. And we don't share a bed, officially."

"What a wonderful get-out clause. We're not 'officially' sleeping together. Well, I suspect that despite her dismal, no, atrocious IQ scores, she may well suspect something."

"No, everyone thinks that I'm enjoying this relative freedom from my parents' apron strings. They think that we've bonded," Light explained, assuredly.

L snorted loudly into his cheesecake. "So Mogi-san, Matsuda-san, and your father all believe that? Despite two of them having witnessed evidence that points to it being a little bit more than two colleagues who have a drink after work and play football on Sundays? Well, I can't argue with that. Are you sure that is what they think?"

"Yes. I told them."

"Ah."

"I told them that I felt responsible that you were injured saving my life. You leapt in front of a bullet for me, you're my friend, blah, blah."

"In other words, you've made yourself responsible for a lot of people, Light-kun; myself and simple-minded floozy. What a shame. And at such a tender age too," L said with a mock-sadness.

"Look, can I ask Misa over, yes or no? Bearing in mind that if you say no, I will never speak to you or go anywhere near your ballsack ever again."

"That's a terrible, terrible threat," L said, truly shocked. "Fine, phone her. I think that it's a wonderful idea."

* * *

Light spoke to Misa and his ear drums would never be the same again. He swore that he had heard dogs howling in the background of the phone call. Misa had, with her high-pitched bawling, initiated the twilight bark.

That evening with L was quiet and uneventful. They'd eaten in an amazingly comfortable silence so they could both think. L was, by some wonder, taking on Light's bizarre habit of regular meal times, although it was on top of his chain-snacking.

But L suspected something. Light was torn between fear and being ecstatic. In a rather abstract way that neither of them would admit, they now both knew that Light _was_ Kira. It was ending. The wheels were in motion. Light knew what he had to do now, he just had to work out how to get in contact with Astraea, which might be problematic.

In the night, Light awoke in the moonlit room to find L crouching on the floor at Light's side of the bed, staring at his sleeping face for who knows how long. Light's voice was dry and cracked from dreams. "L?" he asked before L leaned towards him and captured his lips with his own.

* * *

When Light awoke again, the room was lit by instead by the morning sun. He ached from the hollow feeling of the bed because L wasn't there. Light glanced at the alarm to find that it was past eleven. Great. He rushed to the shower and haphazardly threw on some clothes which he wasn't surprised to find went together perfectly. The claret shirt was the colour of dried blood.

After entering the office, still doing up his shirt, he expected to find the missing man but instead found that L's chair was empty. His eyes flit around the room, ignoring the greetings of the task force.

"Light?" Soichiro repeated.

"Yeah? Oh. Dad. Hi. Where's Ryuzaki?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I just wondered." At that moment Light noticed one of the CCTV feeds on the main screen. L was talking to Misa. Shitbuggeryfuck.

A thousand questions and worries thundered through Light's mind as he took in the image of L crouching on the sofa opposite Misa, who looked thoroughly bored but slightly frightened, like she was in a doctor's waiting room. Light noticed that her eyes flickered from L to the wall behind him. Above his head. No, not the wall. She saw it. She knew his name. A strange pang of jealousy ripped through Light's stomach that she knew and he didn't. She would tell him, but then, did he really want to know? It would make life a lot easier for him but somehow it seemed unfair, like cheating. Part of him wanted to hear the name from L himself. L signing and handing over his own death warrant would be a nice memory in Light's old age. There might be an opportunity when the information would be useful, so it was good that Misa knew, but it would be a last resort. It wasn't the end yet. Light worried that his normally infallible self-control would be tested by L, as only he could. It would force his hand for a reason he might regret later, taking L before his time. He knew that once L was gone, rotting in the ground somewhere, that boredom would follow. He'd get his new world but once L was dead, Light would be alone and nothing would ever touch his heart again. Maybe that would be a good thing.

"How long has she been here?" he asked anyone who would answer.

"Not long. I think she arrived about ten minutes ago," his father replied.

Ten minutes were a long time under L's questioning. Light ran from the office to the lift, impatiently pressing the floor button repeatedly.

* * *

"Ok, Misa-Misa is tired of waiting for Light now," Misa stated, moodily.

"I have no doubt that Light-kun will be here soon. Can you not have an innocent lunch date with a friend, or must Light-kun be with you at all times?"

"He's not with Misa at _any_ time. You know that. It's your fault," she pouted.

"Ah, you think that I'm keeping you and Light-kun apart?"

"You are. Hey, why are you wearing his watch?"

"He doesn't like it anymore."

"He loves that watch. Did you steal it from him, Ryuzaki?"

"No. He gave it to me in a beautiful moment of sacrifiice worthy of calming the wrath of an angry god. You should ask him about it when he gets here. So, your little escapology performance at Shibuya 109! That was quite clever and conniving of you. I was impressed. Tell me, how did you know that you were being followed? Where were you thinking of going in your adorable little disguise?"

"Hee!" Misa giggled, covering her mouth with a shy hand. "Oh Ryuzaki, you are funny. I knew that I was being followed. Mogi and Matsu told me."

"Ah."

"I wanted to have some fun, that's all," Misa added with a sigh.

"You didn't have a date that you wanted to get to?"

"NO! I would never cheat on Light!" Misa squealed, utterly horrified by the idea.

"Not even with Hideki Ryuga? I heard that you are going to make a film with him. He's very good-looking in a floppy, brainless kind of way. I think that you'd make a lovely couple."

"How do you know about the film? Don't tell Light!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, it would break his little heart. Amane-san, since we're friends, perhaps I could ask you a question?"

Misa settled back into the couch and seemed to be thinking it over. "Alright then. You can ask, but I might not answer," she said, pressing a red tipped finger to her nose in conspiracy.

"Amane-san, why do you love Light-kun?"

"Silly! Stupid question, Ryuzaki. I love him because he's amazing! He's so clever and handsome and perfect. There's nothing he can't do. He's everything to Misa," she confided to L like he was Oprah.

"Indeed. There are unsubstantiated reports that a choir of angels sang at his birth," L said, sipping his tea delicately.

"What is this?" Light intoned darkly from the doorway. He was slightly out of breath, L noticed. Interesting.

"Ah, Light-kun. How nice of you to join us. Amane-san and I thought that it was time that we had a catch up, isn't that right, Amane-san?"

"I only came because Ryuzaki promised that I could see you, Light," Misa said, having leapt up and pattered over to Light, throwing her arms around him and laying her face upon his chest. Light let her, even going so far as to place his hands on her back while he stared at L. It was almost like Misa was being absolved by a really sexy priest.

"What were you talking about?" Light asked L. Oh, he was angry.

"Light-kun, your politeness belies what I suspect is seething anger. Amane-san and I thought that you'd be pleased."

Light peeled Misa from himself and ran at L, manhandling him to a stand and shifted around like a tailor's dummy. "What are you doing?" he demanded, throwing L roughly against the wall. L winced as his practically shattered shoulder impacted, but Light had trapped him there, gripping him in place by the white cotton neck of his t-shirt and pulling it out of shape.

"What do you think I'm doing?" L whispered.

"You've done enough to her. Leave her alone."

"Are you really angry on behalf of Amane-san? Do you think that I'm doing something devious?"

"You _are_ a fucking deviant," Light hissed.

"Light! Misa-Misa isn't interested in Ryuzaki. Don't be jealous!" Misa said timidly from the corner of the room where she stood, transfixed.

"Light? Ryuzaki? Is everything all right?" Matsuda's voice interrupted apprehensively over the speaker-system. Everyone was watching. Even without sound it must have looked entertaining.

"I'm not jealous, Misa" Light assured her while still glaring at L, their faces close.

"Light-kun, are we dancing a waltz here or are you going to let me go? My tea is going cold," L said.

This was only going to end in one of two ways. Besides, everyone was watching, weren't they? Light's grip on the white jersey of L's shirt released like a vice being slowly unscrewed. He drew away to face Misa who sighed and practically turned into a puddle on the floor. As Light walked away, L remained pressed against the wall, creases around the stretched-out top from where Light had wrenched the fabric in his fists.

"Misa, you have to be careful of Ryuzaki. He's not a very nice person," Light said.

"I'm sorry, Light. I didn't mean to make you angry," she replied desperately. She made a small step towards him but seemed too frightened and shaken to go any further.

"You didn't," Light said, calmly. He walked past her, picking up a petit four from the table on his way to the window where he gazed over the skyline like nothing had happened. "So, what have you been talking about, or am I not included?" he winked at Misa, the epitome of charm. L stared at him disapprovingly. Damn him for making sure that he's lit to his very best advantage, he thought. Truthfully, Light did look like a fashion shoot.

"We're not talking about anything, Light! We were just waiting for you. I have nothing to say to Ryuzaki," Misa sing-songed, relaxing and kneeling on the sofa to admire Light from behind the backrest like he was a particularly beautiful painting.

"That's not very friendly," L commented, prising himself from his rooted spot at the wall and sitting on a chair.

"Why would Misa want to be your friend, Ryuzaki?" Light asked.

"Ryuzaki has stolen your watch, Light!"

"I have the strangest feeling that I'm being bullied," L reflected while eating a petit four.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Light bellowed at L once Misa had been seen out of HQ. Watari vanished from sight looking shocked by Light's tone. Nobody had ever spoken to L like that, no one would have dared. Not ever.

"That was you going a bit too far. You hurt my shoulder," L complained.

"You cannot imagine the enormity of the fuck that I do not give about your shoulder. What were you asking Misa?" Light asked. His voice sounded dangerous and reeked of arrogance. A normal person would have run screaming from him, but L wasn't normal.

"Can't I have friends, Light-kun?"

"You don't have friends. You have me. Don't fuck with me."

"But I do, Light-kun."

Light sighed and looked at the floor. He wouldn't get anything from L through threats. The best way was to undermine him. Fun times. "I thought..." Light started, "I don't know what I thought. What was that last night?" he asked, hesitant, like he was struggling with it, which in a way he was, because it had been astonishing. Phenomenal. Breathtaking. Never anything like it in all his livelong days and he was pretty sure that Pavarotti sang an aria on the soundtrack.

"Last night?"

Light glared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you somewhere else?" L didn't say anything. He started walking away. How dramatic this was turning out to be. If the task force were watching them now, it would look like an episode of an 80s soap opera on mute. "L," Light insisted.

"Ryuzaki," L corrected him as he walked towards the lift. Light ran after him, grabbing and spinning him around violently to look him in the face. Being able to keeping eye contact during arguments which were too heart-wrenching was another little weakness of L's which Light had observed and added to his armoury. L's eyes were lead, catching the light with a dull graphite shine.

"What about last night?" Light repeated.

"What about it?" L answered. Light looked stunned and offended, which seemed to strengthen L's resolve. "I don't know what you want me to say. I have no idea why you expect me to believe that last night or any other night, morning, or afternoon means anything. Was it Shakespeare, Light? Was it poetry and all the things you dreamt of in your girlish heart, come to life? I don't know why you'd think that last night was different to any other time. I certainly don't. If I did once, it's been beaten out of me. Ah, forgive me, I'm being cruel again, aren't I? I had better stop before you slam me into another wall. Alright then, church bells pealed. Waves crashed. Trains in tunnels. What? Do you want a medal? What was it you said once? Oh yes, it was a 'good lay', Light. Just another good lay."

"Bastard." Light hissed.

"_You're_ the bastard. You've ruined everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are taking me on and I don't like it, Light. I don't know why you've suddenly changed. Something I've done to injure your pride, I suppose. Maybe you're just bored. Or maybe being a disgusting, self-absorbed, mean-spirited, spoiled, odious little boy is just part of your personality? I don't know what you're doing yet but whatever it is that you're planning I am not going to let you get away with it."

Light smiled. He'd been waiting for a declaration of war. "Get away with what?" he laughed. "What am I supposed to have done now? How do you think I fit all these crimes against you into my busy schedule which includes sitting around watching you refrain from doing anything useful?"

"You are planning to destroy me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I was just wondering how exactly you're going to kill me because I'd like to have a say in it. Have you worked it out yet or are you just waiting for the opportunity to present itself? Now's as good a time as any, unless you're worried about getting your shirt dirty. Why don't we find a knife so you can get it over with?"

"How can you say that?"

"Because I know you, Light. I know you and I have eyes."

"Great," Light exhaled, releasing the detective. "I guess you're feeling better then? No more moping about in bed moaning about your shoulder and how it's my fault you were shot and how you messed up and V's dead and I'm Kira and cup of tea, cup of tea? But I wasn't Kira then, obviously. Not when it suits you. Not when you're whining and clinging to me and being so fucking pathetic that I could have thrown up. Feeling up to par to start suspecting me again now? Good to know. So, we're back to how it was before, and after _such_ a nice intermission."

"I think we had better stop this now," L said, like a warning.

This? Stop this? What do you mean? "Fine. I'll be in the office. When you've stopped being a twat, come and find me," Light said, marching off. He would have been tempted to laugh and kiss him if he wasn't furious at L's underhand method of bonking him into a coma in order to speak to Misa on the sly, and nearly getting away with it too. Still, Light was slightly demoralised at the possibility that last night had been a set-up and that he'd fallen for it. He had been sleeping though, he reasoned. L had woken him up and Light was in a dreamy, accommodating mood.

He waited seven hours before L slipped into the chair beside him.

* * *

Misa returned in full regalia on the fourth of November, making a striking black mass upon the CCTV cameras. As Light made his way out of the office to meet her, he noticed L extend his denim leg from a crouched position, like a ballet dancer, to follow him.

"Give them some time alone, Ryuzaki," Aizawa chided.

Light looked slightly apologetic as he caught L's eye over Soichiro's protective shoulder. He had a fake look in his eyes, as if to say 'I'd rather stay here but, you know, this is the cross I must bear, etc. etc._' _before trotting out of the door, de-mobbed. L stood, arms limp at his side and stared at the door. Matsuda sidled up beside him.

"Misa-Misa is going to be performing at the gala tonight, isn't she, Ryuzaki?" Matsuda said, chattily. "I think she's going to sing. Isn't that what she told you, Mogi? Anyway, she probably just needs Light to give her a bit of encouragement. She must be nervous."

L stared at Matsuda blankly for a moment, blinking once. Matsuda paled and backed off a couple of steps in fear of more 'wrath of Ryuzaki' inflicted bruises on his shins as L skulked back to his chair, moodily swinging it back around to the screens, cutting himself off from the rest of the room. He traced Light's progress through the corridors until finally reaching Misa and Watari. What followed was some kind of hysterical airport meeting as Misa, in her usual fashion, lunged at Light like an amorous limpet. Light managed to extricate himself enough to lead her into the room which had been set up for them. Watari bowed apologetically and left them alone, presumably so that he could have an aspirin and a lie down. L inwardly cursed the lack of audio, vainly trying to zoom in enough to lip-read. The detective was certain that Light had positioned himself and Misa at such an angle that the cameras would not capture any footage which would allow anyone to decipher what was said during their conversation. He dug his nails into the arms of his chair.

Misa gently pressed something small and cool into the back of Light's hand.

"Hello again, Ryuk," Light said to the monolithic black ghoul which hovered directly behind Misa.

"Hey, Light! How's it going? All work, no play?" the shinigami replied, a cemetery of yellow teeth smiling back.

"Something like that," Light acknowledged. "Misa will get you an apple when you leave. You've been giving him apples, haven't you?" he asked the watery-eyed blonde.

"Oh, Light, please don't talk about apples!" Misa cried, gripping Light's arms mercilessly.

"She's been giving me apples," Ryuk nodded, "but I have to eat them outside."

Rem had also appeared for the occasion, her hulking frame standing ominously to one side. Light had noticed that Misa was obviously aware that she was there. How interesting.

"You can see Rem," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, ah, she visited me a while ago. She touched me with a piece of her... I mean, with _your_ Death Note, so that I could see her."

"So, she must have told you what happened. That the Death Note was stolen from me. Has she told you were it is?"

"No."

"Light Yagami. Do not question Misa about the whereabouts of your Death Note. She knows nothing and I will not disclose any information, even to her," the white mess boomed.

"Oh, Rem, please. Tell Light what he wants to know!" Misa cried.

"No, Misa. I cannot."

"Rem -"

"It's all right, Misa. I'll find it. That's not the reason I asked you to come here."

Under Misa's sickeningly adoring gaze, Light noticed that she was still pressing the thumbnail-sized scrap of paper to the back of his hand. Misa followed his stare. Her words were hurried. "This is from my book. So that you could see Ryuk and understand. I did what you told me. I found it. Rem told me that you had got your memories back and I was so happy that Misa-Misa managed to -"

"I understand," Light said, cutting her off. The realisation dawned upon him that he, himself, was in some way responsible for not getting his memories sooner. He had kept Misa at arms length, literally. It was partly due to the irritation she brought wholesale, but worst of all, it was because of L. Before he got his memories back, it couldn't be denied that Light had suffered a weakness and apparent need to seclude himself away with L with as few complications and interruptions as possible. Misa had a great talent for being a walking complication and interruption combo, therefore she didn't figure into Light's social circle at the time. Not that anyone did. He didn't need anyone else. Need? Light blanked the word out. Struck it through with an arrow of a pen line. Still, as ill-advised as his relationship with L might seem on paper, the truth was that it was proving advantageous. Firstly, Light could keep his eye on him. Secondly, L often appeared to be so enraptured that it was almost too easy. Three, well, Light had to admit that it had been quite entertaining. In any case, as he closed Misa's hand around the shred of the Death Note, he was aware that she could not be wholly blamed for his plan not going as seamlessly as originally planned.

"Light, I...I tried," she faltered, too scared to say anymore, and not just because of the cameras.

"Misa," Light cooed seductively while snaking a hand around her small frame and kissing her lips lightly, like a fairy tale. She went limp in his arms. Then, settling his mouth next to a blushing cheek, he whispered, "Do you have the Eyes?"

"Guh. Huh? Oh... yes! Yes!" Misa shrieked happily as if selling off half of her lifespan for the second time was the wisest decision she'd ever made.

Light smirked in triumph. "Misa, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Listen carefully. I want you to write down the names of everyone who is going to perform tonight at the gala in the Death Note. All suicides. Start at 3pm and spare no one."

"But Light!"

"I can't explain now, Misa, just do it. I need to divert Ryuzaki's attention for a little while. I need him to think that it is Astraea, do you understand?"

"Why can't I just kill Ryuzaki? I can do it now."

"No. Promise me, Misa. Promise me you won't write his name in the Death Note. If he dies by anyone's hand but mine, I... I don't think I would be able to forgive you."

"I won't, I promise. But, why would he think that Astraea would kill everyone at the gala?"

"Because with each name, you must specify that they cut a symbol into their skin first, like the Astraea murders, remember?" Misa looked blank. Light took it as a sign that she wasn't up on current affairs. "Oh, google it," Light sighed. "It's very important that you make this look like the Astraea deaths. Understand?"

"I know about the symbols but I'll google it anyway if you say so. But Light, about Astraea -"

"Light Yagami," Rem interrupted. "Remember that Misa is not to be put in any danger." That walking fossil exhibition would just not shut up and go back to the museum where she belonged.

"This will solve everything, Rem. You'll just have to trust me. This plan will ensure that Misa and I will both be free." Light turned his tiger eyes back to Misa who melted beneath them like a candle under a blowtorch. "I'm relying on you, Misa. I'm trusting you with my life. Don't fail me," Light said, rubbing his thumb along the outline of her arm.

"I won't fail you. Misa-Misa could never fail her Light."

"You can't. Because it ends tonight."

* * *

"So, did you have a nice chat?" L said. His cheerfulness was disarming, but he was the sort of person who could smile and offer you a drink while he made a necklace from your teeth.

"She's excited about the gala," Light answered with a disinterested tone while folding a stack of his newly ironed trousers. "She's going to sing a song or something. I don't know, I zoned out within thirty seconds."

L stood over a crystal bowl full of Smarties, picking out all the red ones with pincer-like fingers. 'You seemed quite cozy," he said, sarcastically.

"Did we?"

"Yes. You did," L muttered. His tone was low and emotionless. He was dying to lay into Light, but he was holding himself back like a dogwalker with a pack of wolves. "What else did you talk about?"

"You mean you weren't listening?" Light said, glancing over his shoulder.

"You know that I wasn't," L said, darkly. Knowingly. Light turned towards the open wardrobe to hide his smile.

"We were talking about... actually, I've been wanting to speak to you about this for a while," he said with a forged awkwardness. "I was wondering if I could go back to university."

The result was not fail-safe. There was a chance that L would agree, but considering the current situation with Astraea and an as yet unsolved Kira case which, coupled L's stunning combination of mistrust and dependency, Light would have put money on an overwhelming 'no'. In fact, he was sure that L would find some way, any way, to prevent him from leaving. If gauged correctly, a little gentle steering would lead L towards offering him his own detective alias, which he would, of course, accept. This would act as an acknowledgement of Light's innocence as Kira. It would have to. Especially with what was coming.

But, if he did agree to the ridiculous suggestion that Light should leave and he did let him go, then Light would make him regret his choice. He'd make L ache and pine for him and do anything to have him return. They were both too used to the other's presence. He reasoned that L would find his loss similar to having his limbs hacked off by an unstable tree surgeon. The poor sod didn't have a clue.

L accidentally dropped a sweet back into the bowl, "I'd rather you didn't," he stated.

Ha.

"Ryuzaki, you know I have to go back at some point. Otherwise I won't be able to join the NPA at the level I would like," Light said, defensively. This wasn't true. Light had no intention of working for the NPA now. Even before the Death Note fell into his hands, the idea of working his way up the ladder of the police force would be a small tragedy, not to mention a waste of time. Light was intent on skipping the whole thing like a smooth stone across a still pond, finding himself a place right at the top.

"You wouldn't like to be 'Officer Light' on the beat?" L said, trying to regain some semblance of sangfroid. Oh, but he was so easy to read now.

"I'll pass. I don't like the hats," Light played along.

"I think that they're rather fetching," L said, popping a red sweet into his mouth like medication.

"Don't make a joke out of it. I'm serious, Ryuzaki, I can't stay here forever. It's not like you need me."

"I don't need you?" L asked, turning his full attention to Light.

"For the case," Light clarified. Time for the big guns. "You're more than able to do it yourself. Half the time I wonder what use I am anyway. I mean, like this morning, you've got things going on that I don't know about, so how am I supposed to help you? It's not like we'll never see each other again. I can always visit in the evenings and weekends. I would like that," he finished with a weak half-smile, "If you'll have me."

"It sounds less like you're asking my permission to let you, a suspect, go free, and more like you're _telling_ me that you're leaving."

"I'm being reasonable here, I'm asking you. If I wanted to, I could just walk out. I'm not a suspect anymore and you know it."

"You're _telling_ me what I know?" His tone was threatening and his decelerated movements made Light feel slightly uneasy.

"Stop inverting my words."

"You should have thought about your phrasing a little more carefully beforehand."

"Stop it," Light warned. "No, wait, this is the heart of it. You don't trust me. Everything between us is based around that fact. Every time I think that something's changed and that you think better of me, you throw it back in my face and it hurts, for God's sake. I've had enough of it. I just … I want you to have faith in me. You have absolutely no idea what it's like. It doesn't get easier. I start to think that I'm getting used to it, but it just gets more painful to see you suspecting me and weighing me up, questioning every single thing I say and do. If I didn't say anything at all, it wouldn't change anything, you'd just suspect me based on what food I eat or how I walk. You get off on it, I understand that, but I just can't do this anymore."

L walked towards Light, closing the gap. His expression was inscrutable. His eyes were like deep wells. Light couldn't read them, all he could see was himself, reflected. "Would you rather I denied my suspicion of you?" L asked. "I am beaten down by my doubt in you. You think it hurts to be distrusted? I'm well aware of how you feel, I've lived with it. I've seen the misery in you and I know that I've caused it. I hate that I can't believe you and I despise myself for it. You can't imagine what this is doing to me but I wouldn't wish it on you, not for a second. Not even to gain your understanding."

"Oh, and why's that? I thought you loved to see me suffer."

"Because I love you. You know that."

"Ha! You can't throw words like that around like confetti and think that it'll make everything better! Shit, where did this come from?" Light said, in mock disbelief, throwing the rest of the laundry back on the bed.

"It's always there. Always has been."

"Well, like I said. I can't take it any more," Light said softly, with his back to L.

"Then you'll have to go."

"You'll have me followed. Who will you get to do it? Wedy, Aiber, or some other faceless pair of eyes? Another nameless person hiding behind a fucking letter. You'll see me and I won't be able to see you. Is that's what you want?"

"That's what you're asking for."

"No I'm not! If you think that then you're an idiot. I don't want to leave you!" Light said desperately, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Look, I can't do this. I'm going downstairs," he said, as calmly as he could, striding past L towards the door.

L, with surprising force, gripped Light by the arm and pulled him back towards him. His lips hovered over Light's, warm and urgent. They were so close that they exchanged quickened breaths into slightly parted mouths, washing over sensitive, curving, cupid bowed lips. "Please don't leave me," he whispered. L couldn't even meet his eyes, avoiding them like he couldn't bear their brightness. Light's blood ran cold. He'd broken him. Another step forward.

He reached for L's face and pulled the destroyed man towards him. He kissed him lightly below a cheekbone first; a glancing kiss as tender as L had made him feel. This was Light's revenge. L moved to touch his lips to Light's, pressing himself to him reverently like he was giving his life to the sea. Light responded by clasping L to himself, putting the fire of his victory into his possession of him. He kissed roughly, tyrannically pushing him against the door, the force of which made L wince as his weak shoulder hit the wood. Light used one hand to prop himself up just beside L's head, the other hand hovered over the point where the bullet had left L's body. He pressed down on it firmly. L gasped agony and wretchedness into the kiss while Light held him, preventing a collapse from the unexpected pain. L draped his hand around Light's shoulders and Light felt him lose spirit in his arms. This wasn't a means to an end anymore. This was Kira and L giving up their secrets to each other. Right now, Kira wanted L. He wanted to destroy him, adore him. He wanted that beautiful, fractured thing to lie beneath him, to offer him the knife and his heart and say, "Take it. It was always yours."

* * *

Light lay with L in his arms and listened to the ease of his breathing and feeling the heartbeat which calmed slowly underneath his hand. He thought about the men downstairs who had searched for Kira under the standard of L. He nearly laughed when he thought of them only a few floors below pursuing the man who, not ten minutes before, had been driving their L into the ground.

He drew L closer towards him, feeling the aching shoulders fold up like paper within his arms. He'd allow himself a moment of laughter later.

* * *

L went to the roof while Light showered. The sky was clear but the sun was dying on the horizon. It painted the city landscape with beautiful pastel blues while pinks and peaches blushed the clouds. It was like a baroque painting. If some cherubs appeared and fluttered around L's head, he wouldn't have been in the least surprised. He was appreciating the fading light with his back to Watari as he silently approached.

"Watari. Did you come to see the sky? It's beautiful, isn't it?" L said, without turning, startling the ageing inventor. A sentimental, dreamlike L who appreciated a glorious evening was not the person he'd raised.

Shadows cast a elongated streak across the fading gold lit rooftop. "Ryuzaki," he said.

"What is it, Watari?" L asked, his voice was light and soft, but there was some melancholy about the tone which Watari couldn't remember hearing before.

"It's been brought to my attention that … ah, that – "

"What is it, Watari?" L repeated, impatiently. He wanted truth everywhere with no hesitation. There were too many lies.

"The launderers were inspecting your bed linen."

"How nice for them."

"Ryuzaki, are you having relations with Light Yagami?" Watari said, bluntly. If he had expected or had been hoping for an outraged reaction from the young detective then he wasn't rewarded.

L paused for a few moments before replying. "Not at this moment."

"Don't be facetious with me. I expect better from you," Watari said.

L turned at the commanding tone he hadn't heard since he was a child. It was so long since he'd done anything wrong. "I'm sorry, Watari."

"You are, aren't you? You're sleeping with him?"

"Yes, Watari."

"I didn't want to believe it," Watari sighed, "I haven't questioned you about anything, not for many years, but I fail to understand how this could possibly be beneficial in any way, shape, or form. Ryuzaki, what were you thinking? What _are_ you thinking? You suspect this boy of being Kira. Was that simply a ruse to keep him here with you?"

"No, I … No, he is Kira," L replied, hesitantly. Sadly.

"Then your relationship with him is even more mystifying and ill-advised. Ryuzaki, it is lunacy."

"I'm well aware of that, therefore be assured of my sanity. I cannot explain and, Watari, I don't want to."

"I insist that you do."

"I can't. I know of hundreds of reasons why it's wrong. Light-kun could probably illuminate you to another hundred more but there is nothing reasonable about it. I can't put it into a database for you to analyse and I cannot explain it, so please don't ask me."

"You have to end it."

"No."

"You have to. I demand that you do. I'll give you the opportunity to go about it in your own way, but soon. Otherwise I will have to ask Yagami-san to remove his son for the sake of the investigation."

"I … I –" L stuttered.

"Ryuzaki, I've known you since you were a child," Watari interrupted, "You're the closest I have to a son and I love you, but your life if not free. I wish it were. I cannot allow you to put all you have worked for, all you can achieve, this investigation, and yourself, at risk. Too many lives depend upon you."

"Emotional blackmail is a cheap weapon, Watari."

"I'm sorry, perhaps it is, but it's also the truth whether you wish to ignore it or not. One day I hope that you can have a life of your own, but now, you're all we have. The potential heirs are too young and inexperienced to shoulder any of the weight. Plus, as you know, two have gone missing -"

"Heirs," L laughed, flippantly.

"Ryuzaki?"

"Nothing. I don't see how my work should be affected. If anything, with Light-kun working with us, our output should improve ten-fold. His ability is equal to mine, if not greater."

"Can you not see how your work has already been affected? Consider this, you believe that this boy is Kira and you're speaking of him as if _he_ could be your heir. You are enemies. You cannot tell me that you accept Kira's crimes?"

"No, of course not."

"Then explain to me, why?" he asked. Watari felt that he was losing him. That he had, after all, created a monster.

"Watari," L paused, as if seeking the words, not from his mind but from his open heart. "I never wanted a life of my own. This was my life, with you, and I was content," L desperately took a step towards Watari. "I was, believe me. But it was a game. Every case has been a puzzle or chess, and I would play and win dispassionately. Light is not a game. I don't want anything else now and I never needed anything more. Please, don't ask me to do this."

Watari looked at L as he'd never seen him before. There was a ghost in the machine after all, and it was begging him to allow it the one thing which he had no right to deny. But he had to, and it made him want to weep. "I'm sorry, L. I wish –"

"I know, Watari," L whispered.

Watari placed a kind hand on the young man's shoulder and L sank beneath it like it was a lead weight. He sighed and walked slowly back to the door, his footsteps breaking the silence, "Bring it to an end, L."

As Watari left L standing there on the roof, he met Light, dressed in black, coming up the stairwell.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Watari-san," Light said, stepping to one side to let the gentleman pass. He rubbed apologetically at his damp hair with a towel which he'd slung around his shoulders. Watari didn't look him in the eye, only conceding a slight dip of the head as he passed. Light peered after him until he was out of sight before energetically leaping up the remaining stairs to the roof. "Hey, what have you done to Watari?" Light asked jokingly, approaching L, "He looks like he's about to have a stroke."

L looked shocked at the sight of him, turning away by reflex. "Have you seen the sky?" he asked, dreamily.

"Uh, yeah. It's … very pretty," Light said, slinking his arms around L's waist.

"It's more than that."

"I guess. If you like that sort of thing. It's cold out here when you've got wet hair, I'll say that much," Light muttered, rubbing his head again manically with the towel.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"That's because you weren't paying attention. See, I caught you out."

"Yes, you did. You played the game better than I did."

"What game? Anyway, I'm making some coffee and I've run you a bath. Aren't I wonderful?"

"Hmmm… "

"There's a rubber duck too."

"Hmmm… "

"What is it now?"

"What?"

"You're all maudlin again."

"I'm sorry," L whispered.

"Don't be. Have you had a fight with Watari or something?"

"Oh, I suppose. We disagreed on something."

"L."

"Yes, Light?"

"He knows, doesn't he?"

"Light, I – "

"That's a blow."

"Yes."

"Did you tell him that it wasn't true?"

"I couldn't lie. He knew and whatever I said wouldn't have made any difference."

"He wasn't very happy then?"

"Not exactly."

"But it's all right, isn't it? He's not full of scary grandpa fury or anything? I mean he didn't look like he wanted to spear me just now, he just looked awkward. He'll keep it to himself though, won't he? I mean, who would he tell? He wouldn't discuss it with my father, would he?"

"Watari wouldn't say anything."

"Good. Well then, maybe I should have a word with him. Maybe he'd like that. Put his mind at rest."

"Are you going to try and convince him of your good intentions towards me?"

Light scowled behind L's shoulder. Just as quickly, he smiled again and nuzzled into L's neck, "Well, just so you know, I'm not going to marry you. I'm just going to shag you senseless until you die. Fair's fair. I wouldn't want to lie to Watari either. L?"

"Yes?"

"Is it really that bad?" L spun slowly within Light's hold to look at him, palming the side of face like a small bird. Light's eyes flickered over L's in a panic. "L?" And L kissed him as the last of the colour drained from the sky.

* * *

At four o'clock, the first report came through. A few minutes later, they flooded in, catching up like it was a race. Six apparent suicides, all women, all in different areas of the same building. One onlooker described how an unfortunate woman in the costume department broke off mid-sentence, her eyes suddenly glazing over, silvered like a mirror, before she proceeded to gouge a rough-edged pentangle into her chest using dressmaking shears. Then, in front of the shocked spectator, she carved a gory smile into her own throat. That was just one person. After that, they fell like broken soldiers.

"This is not Astraea." L said, his voice raspy. He sat in a pathetic pretence of his typical crouch, only he was slanted against the wings of his chair for support. They stared at the NPA crime scene photographs.

"No, those symbols were meaningful. They were communicating through them. These are cheap imitation. This doesn't mean anything," Light agreed, "Oh – "

"What is it Light-kun?"

"I thought I saw … no. No it's nothing."

"Light-kun, what did you see?"

Light was dumbstruck as he stared at the screen. L's eyes, reflecting the blue of the monitors, fixed upon Light. Eventually turning back to the images, he flicked back and forth through them, stopping on one image. The grotesque drool of a symbols carved into the chest of a singer who committed suicide onstage during a rehearsal, once seen from above, was a broken heart. Two curving halves split by a cartoonish, zigzagging line. L's empty eyes skimmed over the image before quickly switching on another monitor to his right. He opened one of hundreds of video recordings. It showed Light and Misa from the day before. He paused the footage upon Misa, standing for a moment on the steps of the building. L paused the footage and zoomed in on her. She wore a necklace of a broken heart. It was exactly the same, right down to the little notches along the zig-zag which made it appear that the heartbreak had been roughly stitched back together.

"NO! Misa!" Matsuda cried.

"She's responsible," L said, as if anaesthetised. "She's killing everyone. That's why the symbols have no meaning . She's making them up. She wants us to believe that it's Astraea."

Light pled desperately, "Ryuzaki! Wait, it's not an uncommon symbol, it might be -"

"Watari, call Aiber and tell him to apprehend Amane-san and to hold her there until back-up arrives," L spoke into the microphone. "Tell him that he must restrain her and to stay on the line." He turned, "Ide-san, Mogi-san, please help bring the suspect here immediately."

* * *

"Misa, they're coming for you."

"Oh my God! They're going to lock me up! Kill me! Rem, what do I do?" Misa frantically paced the dressing room holding a page of the Death Note which was all she had left since Astraea insisted upon the notebook remaining with them. Once a week they fetched Misa so that she could write the names and particulars of death of all the people they wanted dead because they didn't trust her to keep it safe. They'd be so angry with her if they knew what she'd done. They must know by now.

Aiber lay lifeless, sprawled across the floor.

Rem expressionless face followed the path of her hand as it pulled a black book from the bag around her spinal waist. "Misa, run."

"Rem, NO! Not Ryuzaki, please. I promised Light! I promised!" Misa cried. But there was no time. Rem had crumbled into dust. Misa stared at the glittering ash in disbelief for a moment, but her regret didn't last for long. She reached for Rem's Death Note before rushing to the door.

Mogi gasped in realisation, his eyes wide with horror, then pain. Ide rushed to Mogi before feeling that brutal crushing as if the hand of God was squeezing the life from him. The two policemen dropped to the floor. Ide was propping himself up, clutching his chest and staring at Misa. She ran past the fallen officers as they felt the last constriction, the last flutter of a heartbeat.

* * *

"Still no response, Ryuzaki."

"Then she has killed them," L stated. "She'll come for you, Light-kun," he added, staring into the screens like he was reading from an autocue.

"Come here? But that would be suicide."

"She'll come here for you," L repeated.

"No, I don't believe it! She's not a murderer!" Light screamed, rushing for the door.

"Light!" Soichiro shouted after his son but Light was already in the lift. As he reached the ground floor, he sabotaged the keypad, confusing it with codes until it broke down in shock. Timed perfectly, Misa was already at the door. Light opened it.

"Light! I did it but they came and Rem... Rem, she -"

"Is Rem dead, Misa?"

"Yes! She turned to dust right in front of me! I think that she died for me."

"It's alright, Misa," Light said calmly, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder, "Do you have your Death Note?"

"Yes!" Misa said, her shaking hands reaching for Rem's Notebook in her bag. She held it before him like she desperate to get rid of it.

Light's head inclined towards the sound of even, insubstantial steps. They betrayed an older frame. Just as planned. "It's Watari. Kill him, Misa!" Light commanded.

Misa hurriedly scribbled in the book. She's tried to memorise his name but how she wished she had him there so she could use her shinigami eyes to double check. How embarrassing it would be if she got it wrong in front of Light. Good job she'd learned her lesson after forgetting Ryuzaki's name that time. She'd committed Watari's to heart. Carefully etching out the peculiar letters over and over on slips on stationery before burning them.

Quillish Wammy.

Watari rounded the corner to be faced with Misa and Light holding a Death Note. He had no idea what it was, just an ordinary book, wasn't it? He stepped towards then until Light turned to face him. His eyes. Then Watari knew. The old man reached for his belt to alert L but like a chastisement his hand stretched out painfully in spasm. A second later he was on his knees. His eyes searched around him for something, panicked. His mouth desperately murmured, trying to form words. Light smiled. He pointed his arm at Watari's body and grinned at Misa. It was frightening. Misa was frightened of him. He didn't look like himself. He looked like Death.

"Light, let's go!" Misa said, her eyes following the direction of Light's outstretched arm. She saw Watari collapse face down on the floor, one hand over his heart. He looked like one of those puppets her parents had taken her to see. Once the strings were severed, they didn't collapse so much as they crumbled.

Light lowered his arm. "The Death Note, Misa. Give it to me," he said.

"Quickly, Light!" Misa gasped, stuffing the notebook and pen into Light's hands.

"Yes, Misa," Light's eyes narrowed as he scrawled in some characters.

"Light, they're coming," she urged, tugging at his sleeve. She could hear them running through the stairwell.

Light calmly flipped through the Death Note like he was scanning a newspaper. As the seconds flew by Misa became more and more agitated. "It's all right," Light said, apparently satisfied. He closed the book.

"We have to go!"

"No, Misa. We'll stay right here."

"What? Light you can't..."

Misa's eyes clouded over almost instantly, like a gauzy blind had been drawn. She tottered backwards, her eyes wide and fixed upon Light's as she sank to the floor.

Thank you, Misa. I couldn't have done it without you.

The sound of running drew closer. Light quickly ripped a sheet from the Death Note - the new page with only Watari's name on, and pressed it into her still hand. She was still breathing, staring at him. He ran to the corner of the room and, lifting up a carpet tile, slipped the notebook underneath and replaced the tile back in place like a cover. He ran back to Misa, knelt at her side and started CPR. He wasn't even sure that she was even dead. Her eyes seemed to follow him wherever he went, they always had.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw L, Aizawa, Matsuda and his own father come into sight at the corner. L stopped dead in his tracks when confronted with Watari's fallen form. The other three men seemed to have a quick, silent conversation. Aizawa knelt at Watari's side as Soichiro and Matsuda turned to rush towards Light.

"Light! What happened?"

"Misa! She went crazy! She -" Light's breathing was irregular, partly from the exertion of his half-hearted attempt to resuscitate Misa, but mostly from the sheer joy of success. Across the room, collapsed into a seated position next to Watari's body, was that stricken face he loved, with eyes as dark as forever. Light had him now. He was alone in the world.

"She killed Watari! Is he really dead?" Light said, urgently, trying to pull his eyes away from L.

"Yes, Light."

"God, Misa, why? I don't understand. Help me someone!" Light shouted frantically as he compressed down repeatedly on Misa's narrow chest. He was more little boy lost by the second. He should be an actor. He deserved an award for this. If only Ryuk was here to appreciate it. Couldn't he have come along to see this?

"I'll call an ambulance," Matsuda said, softly, but he'd wisely given up already.

"Light, stop, she's dead," Soichiro said, firmly.

"What? No! What are you saying?" Light shouted.

"Come on." Soichiro dragged Light up under his arms. He wanted his son out of here. He shouldn't see these things.

"No, they're going to kill us all! Astarea killed Misa! They must have made her do this. Now they're going to kill us too!" Light pawed at his head, stepping backwards a few steps as Soichiro knelt down beside Misa and started searching through her jacket, her pockets, her bag, and emptied the contents. Light noticed a sheet of the Death Note she must have kept loose there. He reached forwards grabbing the paper.

"What's this?" he said, He had to make sure that somebody witnessed him touching the paper. Everything would undoubtedly be scanned for prints. "And this!" he cried, grabbing Watari's death paper from Misa's loose, dead hand.

"Just names," Soichiro said, looking over the crumpled pieces of the notebook.

"No someone killed her! Astraea..."

"Light, calm down."

Light stepped back a few paces before he turned on his heels and ran. He took the far lift, the one which wasn't sabotaged by his own hand, ran to the bedroom and locked the door. He immediately started hacking into the network and checked the footage of Misa and himself in the hall. Scrutinising the film earnestly – he didn't have much time – he was relieved to find that he had indeed choreographed it well, keeping his back mostly to the camera. Misa was clearly seen writing Watari's name in the Death Note. A few moments later, she tried to pull Light aside, which he appeared to resist, extending a calculated arm towards Watari. Then Misa, staggering backwards, dropped like a dead weight to the ground. She looked like a corpse before she hit the floor. All that was seen next was Light, stepping back in horror. As he did so, he disappeared off-screen for a few moments before rushing back, again, with his back to the camera. He kneeled over Misa, hiding her from view while he, presumably, tried to wake her. After a few desperate seconds, he lunged to one side and began decompressions. A little after that, the task force arrived. Light watched himself look devastated on the screen while L genuinely was at the corner of the screen.

The area where he'd hidden the Death Note was one of the few blind spots in the whole building.

Light breathed. He looked innocent. That's what it looked like. He had been prepared to do some editing, but it wasn't necessary. This footage was cinematic gold. He exited the program and covered his tracks. Afterwards, he stood up and casually walked to the bed, pulling back a bed sheet on L's side and slid into his place. He let his head fall back onto the pillow. It smelled of L. He breathed it in. Sparing himself a couple of minutes to wallow in his glory, he waited. Eventually, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps, followed by distracted hammering at the door.

"Light! Light, open the door!" Light, slowly tucked his legs under the blankets, manoeuvring himself into a childlike pose. He mussed up his hair and slapped his face a few times causing instant pink welts to form across his cheeks. The door flung open by the force of his father's kick, "Light!"

"No! No!" Light screamed, bearing down into the sheet and pillows in horror as Soichiro approached him.

"Light, it's me, calm down. Breathe," Soichiro said, stroking down his son's hair comfortingly.

"Kira!" Light cried, shrilly, like it was a secret. His two hands gripped his father's jacket cuffs for emphasis, knuckles white.

"It's all right, Light," Soichiro said, assuredly, pulling Light's scared face to his shoulder, easing panic and feeling Light begin to rock silently with sobs.

Inside, Kira was laughing.

* * *

**A/N:** As if you havent read enough. How long is this chapter? Long.

So this one was the most complicated to write in terms of me tying myself in knots trying to figure out how the hell it could work. Damn twisty-turny things. Trying to think like Light is not easy. So, in terms of death notes and who owns what because I get confused:

1. Astraea have Misa's (Ryuk is the shinigami because of the big swap around in the canon) because they insisted that her death note should stay in their possession while she remained the owner. In effect, Misa was loaning it to them. Whoever touches that book next will become the next owner. I have no idea why Ryuk's not present during the end scenes. He should have been, as he was in possession of Misa at the time. He was at one point, but it just complicated matters for me in terms of having yet another character there, to be honest. It's laziness. I wanted it to read in a very rushed and WTF-ish way, and Ryuk being there slowed it up in the wrong places. I imagine that he's probably eating apples somewhere.

2. The location of Light's (previously Hashimoto's) death note is unknown.

3. Rem's personal death note became Misa's (her second), and upon her death became Light's (his second). He has possession of it with no shinigami and it's under the carpet tile. *laughs self into a coma*

So, Light has ownership over two notebooks but only has actual possession of one. According to the 'Rules of the Death Note" (a.k.a. bane of my life), he'll remain the owner of the book that was stolen for 490 days.

**Disclaimer/stealage kudos**

"A mode of love" – I'm pretty sure that I stole\bastardised this from Oscar Wilde's _De_ _Profundis_.

**Edit** August 2012. I just overhauled this because I wanted to go more into how exactly Astraea take over the world extremely quickly. I wasn't terribly bothered about it while writing the story originally, and I thought that no one else would care because they're more interested in Light and L, so I went for "Aaaaand they take over the world!" But, as it's important throughout the rest of the fic, I thought I'd try and fill it in a bit and you can skip it and this if you want because I'm probably repeating myself. Obviously it probably wouldn't play out this way if it really happened. The reason everything falls to pieces so quickly is that, for the purpose of self-preservation, there's an unwillingness for countries to get involved, or they come to some kind of peaceful treaty and acceptance with Astraea for the same reason. Astraea wouldn't actually want to change how countries run and how people live their lives, they just want to establish themselves as a judge over right and wrong. Certain countries would be opposed to it, others would accept it. Plus, bombs and mad people don't mix. It's based on the hypocrisy of countries having nuclear warheads but not liking anyone else to have them. The take-over started in the U.K. because it's a small island and not as immediately threatening as taking over a larger country would be, and would also be quite well placed in terms of expansion. Plus, the U.K. doesn't really feature in a lot of fanfics and I'm biased. There are a lot of Astraea devotees who have infiltrated most countries, so it all caves in from the inside. I don't know, I'm not a politics/history/sci-fi major and this is crazy shitz.

Also hacked at some dialogue (gentlemen bitchfest!) and stuff. General tidy up.


	13. Asleep

**A/N **The section in italics is a flashback. Just so you know.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

** Asleep**

_Sing me to sleep_

_And then leave me alone_

_Don't try to wake me in the morning_

_'Cause I will be gone_

_Don't feel bad for me_

_I want you to know_

_Deep in the cell of my heart_

_I will feel so glad to go_

_I don't want to wake up_

_On my own anymore_

_Sing to me_

_There is another world_

_There is a better world_

_Well, there must be_

_Bye bye_

_~ The Smiths_

* * *

If only his eyelids were not frozen into those fine slits. They were unnatural. Not quite closed, not quite open. If only they were closed, then L could have believed that Watari was sleeping. As it was, those little crescents and the glimpses of those unseeing eyes beneath were horrific, yet L was too frightened to close them. It would be a violation.

And he was too frightened to leave him. When he did, he knew that he wouldn't see his face again.

* * *

Light wondered why he was putting off finding L. He'd drunk enough tea to sink a boat and he was missing the aftermath. He was missing something he wouldn't see again, yet he kept accepting cups of tea with shaking hands. He was shaking just from the excitement of it all, though, of course. That was all. That was the only reason.

"Where is he?" Light whispered.

"Who?" As Matsuda answered him, Light was struck by how the shock had bleached the blood from his face. He looked so much younger than his birth certificate would suggest.

"Ryuzaki," Light said.

"Oh, he's, er. He's with Watari-san."

"Is someone with him?"

"With who?"

"With Ryuzaki, Touta," Aizawa said, harshly. "For God's sake. He's asking who's with Ryuzaki."

"Oh. I'm sorry Light. It's just, I can't believe it."

"Where are they?" Light persevered.

"They moved the... they're downstairs."

"I'll go and find him," Light muttered, as he stood.

"I don't know whether you should, Light. He's not in a good state and you're still shaken."

"I'm fine, Matsuda."

"I'll call the chief."

"Don't bother him, he'll be busy. He should be with Ryuzaki anyway and I just want to check. It's fine, really," Light assured Matsuda as he put his cup on the table. Matsuda turned to Aizawa for backup but only found a shrug of the shoulders in support.

"Let him go if he wants. It might help," Aizawa said, slumped in the chair.

* * *

No sign of Ryuk yet. Strange, Light would have put money on the odds that he wouldn't have missed this for the world. No, he wouldn't have missed this for all the apples in the world. Unless...

The corridors were as empty and redundant as they usually were, but everything just seemed a little more foreboding. It was late. Dark. It must be well after 7pm by now. Misa would probably have been getting ready to go onstage at the gala, except, well there was no gala now. There was no Misa now.

Light walked down each flight of stairs and checked through all the rooms on each floor as he descended the building. He allowed himself a passing glimpse of the carpet tile where the Death Note lay waiting underneath. His palms itched.

No sign of L yet. He was here somewhere, wherever Watari was. Light killed two birds with one stone. Now he would use the time to write the upcoming screenplay in his mind. What would he say when he found L? How he would act? It was hard to gauge it since Light couldn't imagine what frame of mind L would be in. L would probably fall back onto what he was trained for. He'd probably put Light through a mangle of questioning and Light would give him no answers. Perhaps the diversion would help L through the shock and hopefully it wouldn't take him too long to get over Watari's death. Light idly pondered how close L and Watari actually were. One thing he was sure of; L would not respond well to perfunctory sympathetic, card-like expressions, 'Sorry for your loss. Remember the good times!' and all that rubbish. L would probably slap him instead of understanding that these banal statements were usually all that people _could_ say and kindly accept them as a weak attempt at comfort through standardised polite words. L would expect better from Light.

_Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.  
_

Lower ground floor.

Light felt slightly nervous. He forced himself to regulate his breathing as the tomb-like, windowless walls encroached. The house of the unseen. There was nothing but death here. L must be here, there was nowhere else. He thought of Orpheus descending to the underworld for the lost Eurydice. All he had to do was not look back.

He found L in a cold looking room, bathed in blue florescent light. He was statue-like, just a shade of himself. Light's eyes followed L's frozen thousand-yard gaze. Watari was laid out upon a gurney, his arms neat at his sides. Why wasn't he covered? Why wasn't his face covered? It was like he was going to sit up any minute like some undead thing, like L was waiting for him to, wanting him to. Light felt a pit of anger as he thought of L being left here alone to be a guardian over a dead body underground like this. He hesitated in the doorway. For once in his life he had absolutely no idea what he should do, and L was looking at him. Unconsciously, he took a step back from the scorching lifelessness of L's fixed stare.

'Afraid she was no longer there, and eager to see her, the lover turned his eyes. In an instant she dropped back, and he, unhappy man, stretching out his arms to hold her and be held, clutched at nothing but the receding air.'

"Why have you come here?" L asked. His voice was gravelly and inhuman.

"For you."

The silence passed between them, gulf-like and stretching on forever.

"The last person I need is you," L whispered, at last. "Oh, did you want to see what you've done?" He turned his gaze back towards Watari.

"L."

"Why?" he asked plainly.

"I didn't do this," L protested. L looked back at Light with lips which had contorted into a bitter smile and eyes like serpentine runes. His face was all shadow, with only grisly touches of blue florescence highlighting the plains of his skull. "Ryuzaki. L -"

"Don't call me that," L snapped. "When did I say that you could? You don't have the right to call me that. Was it because he knew? Was it my fault? Was it my -" L asked, his eyes widened with a new horror.

"Ryuzaki, please, it wasn't your fault. It was Misa. I couldn't stop her. I didn't understand."

"No." L dismissed the idea firmly while looking back to Watari's face.

Light's heart was pounding. His feet seemed planted into the earth. "I saw her do it," Light said, the desperation clear in his voice. "She wrote his name on a piece of paper and then… then -"

"Paper?"

"Yes. She had these sheets of notepaper with names written on. All the gala deaths, how they died, everything's there. I don't know how she did it but I saw her kill Watari."

L closed his eyes, squeezing them closed. "You saw her do it. And you didn't stop her?" he asked.

"I didn't know."

"You told her to do it."

"What? L, listen to me, I didn't kill Watari-san. I didn't do this, believe me." He took a step forward, drawn by a string.

"No. No, Light, I don't believe you. Above all things, you're a liar. You're a liar and a murderer. You killed Watari, you killed them all. Tell me how you did it. Where is this paper?" L swayed as he realised that Light was so close. He tried to back away as Light put him arms around him, but he didn't fight. Light was stronger than him at this moment. L felt empty. He _was_ empty. He submitted to the hold and Light felt so stupidly grateful that he clung to him, drawing the chill closer.

"L, you're so cold," Light said incredulously. He surprised himself with his easy tone. He felt L go rigid in his arms before he pushed him away ferociously.

"Get away from me!" he panted, staggering backwards. "I want you in a cell. I want you executed. You bastard. Bastard! Why did you give me proof like this?" he hissed. He ran at Light with closed fists and Light just stood there horrified as L gripped his shirt, clawing at it, scraping. The buttons gave way and the shirt ripped apart at the neckline, gaping as L dragged his nails along Light's throat and collar bones instead. Light at last tried to catch hold of the manic hands before L peeled him apart; skin, muscle, tendon, bones.

Then there was someone between them, holding L, who raged fiercely within their strong grasp. "Light, go outside." Soichiro said, still holding L, who had begun heaving with a silent laughter

"But, Dad -"

"Light, I said go outside."

"Yes!" L said hysterically, his words spilling from him like a torrent of water - "Go outside, Light-kun! Kunkunkunkun Light-kun! Go outside, Kira. Daddy says so! Enough for today, Kira? Enough blood. Enough, ha, enough broken hearts for you, Kira? This is just a joke to you, isn't it? Light Yagami, I know what you are!"

"Light," Matsuda said, gripping Light's wrist and gently easing him from where he stood, transfixed, as L screamed, feral and destroyed. Light barely noticed the man who was rushing past him, towards L.

"Ryuzaki, calm down," Soichiro said, firmly, trying desperately to press L's head to his shoulder and whether it was to comfort or to muffle his cries, Light couldn't be sure. L managed to break free, the momentum flung him hard against the wall. The thud was sickening but he didn't appear to feel it. Instead, he searched and found Light again with his eyes.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he asked breathlessly. "Why?"

He really didn't know why? "L, please -" he whispered but Light's voice only seemed to make L more hysterical.

"No more lies! I knew that you were always to be my scaffold. I knew that. But he was never a threat to you. I never thought …" he said, turning back sadly to Watari's prone form. "What have I done? What have you done, Light?"

Light resisted Matsuda's urging and Aizawa stood in front of him. Light struggled to look over Aizawa's wall of a shoulder as he couldn't tear his eyes away from L. He was like an bystander unable to look away from a terrible accident and the blood all over the road. Their eyes were fixed upon each other until the stranger calmly approached. Light was forced out of the room by Aizawa, which only seemed to further distress L who began violently struggling against Soichiro and the man who held a hypodermic in his hand. Light started fighting against Aizawa's blocking form when he heard L's panicked cried and accusations, knowing that they were aimed at someone other than him. Someone was trying to hurt him. How dare anyone touch him?

"It's all right, Light."

"What are they doing to him?"

"It's a doctor."

"You can't. No, you can't do that to him -" Light panicked.

"Light," Aizawa said, gripped Light firmly by the arms. "Look at me. You have _got_ to calm down or he'll be drugging you up too, do you understand? Calm down." Light heard the sense in what Aizawa said, and almost immediately become stone-like in response. Aizawa was right.

The doctor re-emerged. "He should sleep for at least a few hours," he explained as he passed through, glancing at Light before turning back to Aizawa. "I've spoken to Chief Yagami. Just get him out of here. I hope someone is coming to take those bodies away?"

"Well, we weren't thinking of keeping them," Aizawa said, bluntly before recovering himself. He despised stupid questions from sanctimonious, unfeeling idiots. "Sorry. Yes, they're on their way."

The doctor frowned. He'd obviously been dealing with a lot of angry, hysterical people that day. "Good. I'll be back when he wakes up."

Light just caught a glimpse of his father heading towards the far lift carrying L in his arms like a broken doll.

* * *

Hours had passed. Light was draped in a blanket even after he had stopped shaking. It must be bad. He had said nothing apart from chastising Matsuda for raiding L's personal supply of tea to make yet more of the calming brew.

"I wonder whether Watari-san has … had some somewhere," Matsuda mused on the quest for tea.

"I'm not sure where his room is," Aizawa said.

"I think it's through that door."

"Well, I'm not going."

"We'll have to at some point." Matsuda shrugged.

"No, we'll just buy some tea. I'm not ransacking his room." Aizawa stated.

"Chief said we can't leave. We're still in lockdown until he's heard more about the situation outside."

"Jeez, my wife is gonna be so pissed off with me. Brilliant," Aizawa sighed.

Matsuda gesticulated like he was explaining an obvious fact to a toddler. "So, we'll have to see where he keeps the tea," he said. Aizawa's marital problems apparently not being as important as his fixation on tracking down as much tea as humanly possible.

"We'll do without the tea, God, Matsuda, lay off the tea will you? You've made enough," Aizawa said pointing to the graveyard of teacups and mugs scattered around the office.

"We've run out of coffee too."

"Ok, now that is serious. Someone has to ransack his room," Aizawa actually stood like a soldier at the revelation.

"Don't look at me!" Matsuda shrieked, horrified.

"There is no _way_ I'm going to go steal stuff from his room," Aizawa bawled. "He's still in the building, for fuck's sake."

Matsuda started collecting mugs like a disgruntled housewife. "He's not going to come after you," he said, in a strop.

"I can't. It's disrespectful." Aizawa argued.

"Well, I'm not go –"

"It was your fuc –"

"I'll go," Light said. The two older men stopped what they were doing and stared at the bundled up youth.

"No, you sit there." Aizawa muttered, kindly, like a good psychiatrist.

"I'll go. I don't mind. I'm tired of sitting here anyway." Light was already folding up the blanket.

"Matsuda will go with you."

"Hey!" Matsuda exclaimed, indignantly.

"No, really. I'd rather go by myself," Light assured them.

"It's not disrespectful, is it, Light?" Matsuda asked, almost hopping alongside Light as he strode towards the door. "Watari-san wouldn't want us to go without tea and coffee, would he?"

Light was typing into the keypad at the side of the door. The lockdown had overridden many of the doors and they had to be unlocked manually. Thankfully, it didn't take Light long. 0.57721 56649 01532 86060 - The numerical value of Euler's constant to the 20th decimal place. The same code worked on all the other doors. It was L's favourite equation; he said that he thought that the formula was beautiful even though he wasn't a big fan of mathematics. Months ago, he'd explained it to Light since he hadn't come across it before. He still wasn't entirely sure what it meant, and neither did L, but L had drawn out the equation on a scrap of paper for him. Light had kept it. It was in a drawer somewhere.

"No, he wouldn't mind," Light exhaled to Matsuda as the doors opened and he walked inside. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door slid shut behind him.

The room was red, as if lit by some generator backup lighting system. A desk was surrounded by a mass of TV screens which hung off the walls like fruit on branches. Sparsely furnished, the surfaces was clinical with perfectly organised towers of files. In the far end of the room was what looked like an architect's drafting table. Beside the table, was a smaller room; a kitchenette not dissimilar to the one Light shared with L. He opened the cupboards slowly, finding the tea, coffee, milk and sugar which he placed onto a familiar silver tea tray. A brushed aluminium door caught his eye and as Light approached it, it opened automatically with a brush of air.

Inside was a different room altogether, a frozen shrine to Watari. An apple, which had been sliced before he'd been interrupted, was turning brown on a bedside table. A suit, neatly pressed, had been laid out along the back of a chair. The made bed, touching in its simplicity, and the small child's scarf which had been draped over the bedstead. Light's eyes lingered upon it for a while before glancing around the room more closely. He found a brown leather bag which sat upon a dressing table. When he opened it, the snap of the metal opening startled him and he suddenly felt ashamed. Then he saw the contents – vials and bottles which were all neatly labelled, hypodermics, bandages, and scalpels, all manner of medical instruments which you'd expect a GP to own, not L's keeper. But then, hadn't Watari saved his life? Maybe. The fleeting thought crossed Light's mind that he'd never thanked him, but he pushed it aside. Light closed the bag again and hung over it for while, for the first time realising what he'd done. There were human consequences. Real human effects. Watari would never walk back into this room. A little human tragedy.

Like a automaton, Light left the room, swiftly collected the laden tea tray, and left the whole sorry crypt to it's loneliness.

* * *

"Dad, what's happening? Is there anything I can do?"

"Ryuzaki's awake," Soichiro explained.

"Dad?" There was a 'but' or an 'and' coming.

"The doctor thinks that he should be hospitalised."

"You can't do that to him. Dad, you _can't_."

I won't let you, he thought. He was so desperate to say it.

"I don't know what to do," Soichiro continued. "The doctor has prescribed a stronger sedative but I feel like I should contact someone. He's somebody's son. Surely there must be someone besides Watari. Has he ever said anything to you about his famiy?"

"He's never mentioned anyone. Can I see him now?"

"No, Light. You shouldn't have to see him like that."

"Dad, what Ryuzaki said before -"

"Ryuzaki was upset, Light. Please don't take it personally."

"Of course I wouldn't, I just want to see him. I won't bother him, I'll stay out of sight."

"I don't know, Light," Soichiro said, dragging careless fingers through his hair. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Please, Dad. He doesn't have anyone else."

* * *

Light stood, shrinking back against the door, arms folded as Soichiro spoke to the doctor at the end of L's bed. Their bed. L looked small and alone, but peaceful. His face was no longer distorted into murderous expressions of anger on the face of betrayed love. Light tried to listen in on his father's conversation with the doctor, but their hushed tones couldn't compete with the captivating whispers of L's breath as he slept. Light couldn't focus and he _must_ focus.

The doctor brushed beside him and out of the door. His father approached him. "Light, we best let him sleep now," he said, kindly.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Come downstairs."

"Dad?"

A tired voice interrupted. "Light..."

Light's eyes rushed to the source of his name. L's eyes flickered slightly and he vainly tried to move away from something which was too bright for him.

"Ryuzaki," Light whispered as he made some motion towards him. He glanced at his father for a moment whose concerned face nodded heavily.

"He needs to rest, Light. Five minutes, then come downstairs," he said softly, closing the door behind him.

Light was at L's side within a second. He knelt on the floor beside the bed and took the frail bones of L's hand in his.

"Hello, " L said, weakly.

"Hello," Light replied, softly, and smiling despite himself. L's reaction was slow. Painfully slow. He smiled in return but his voice sounded dry. Light reached for a glass of orange juice, offering it to L who, of course, refused. Instead, he closed his eyes, turning away as something which looked like a rush of pain crossed his features. Light held his hand tighter. "Do you need anything?"

"No. No, it's just … I forgot. For a moment."

"L, I'm so sorry."

L flopped his head back to one side and gazed at Light, his face as blank and pale as ice. The dark streaks under his eyes were underlined by purple, bruise-like shadows under transparent skin. He admired Light dreamily through heavy lidded eyes. "Come here, Light. I can hardly see you." Light hesitated for a moment. He expected another burst of outrage from this beaten down frame. He climbed in beside L, not caring if anyone walked in. They were two men who had 'bonded'. L wrinkled his nose as if something was stupidly funny but was supposed to be serious. "Why is that?" he asked.

"What is it, L?"

"My eyes."

"They're just a bit swollen," Light said, laying his cool fingertips over the lilac bruised skin stretched thin over bloodshot eyes.

"Ah, thank you," L whispered gratefully, holding Light's fingers in place as the coolness soothed his tired eyes which were so sick of seeing. Light's breath hitched and he choked back the well of pressure in his throat.

"I'll get some ice," L said, helpfully, but really trying to find a way to pull himself out of this.

"No. Light?"

"Yes?"

"Stay with me, won't you?"

"Of course I will. I won't leave you."

"I'm so tired."

"Go to sleep," Light said gently, brushing his hand down L's cheek upon which he half-imagined he could feel the cool, swollen dampness of tears and smell the salt in them. Light's eyes flickered over to the bedside table were the bronze watch caught the dim lamplight. Someone had taken it from L. Light reached for it and gently hooked it around L's limp wrist again, clasping it close like a cuff.

"I don't know," L groaned.

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know what happened."

"Don't worry about it now," Light said, kissing L gently. Not now, not ever.

"Ha," L breathed, his smile showed a slither of pearl-coloured teeth.

"What is it?"

"You do love me after all."

"Yes, L," Light said, pulling himself closer to the closed eyes. "I suppose I always have."

"Strange. I thought it would make a difference, but it doesn't. Isn't that strange?"

"No," Light admitted, sadly.

"Shouldn't it matter to me?"

"No, L. It matters to the person who loves you."

"And you do," he stated like it was a new and unbelievable fact he was trying to absorb.

"Yes," Light repeated, kissing L's closed eyes like a blessing. "Yes, I love you."

"Bad things happen to people who love me."

"Shhh..."

"There's something missing," L murmured, relaxing further in Light's arms. Light felt that he was losing him to sleep or something like it. Maybe that was best.

"Sleep now."

"Please don't let me wake up without you here," L whispered, like a child's prayer as he drifted away from him.

"I'll be here. I promise," Light said, loving the warm, rhythmical rush of breath across his throat as L fell asleep against him.

_But you're a liar._

* * *

"What the holy fuck is this?" came the indignant cry from the leathered blond as he stared at his plate.

"It's a gherkin. Mello, meet gherkin. Gherkin, meet Mello, prepare to die."

"I know what it is but what is it doing in my sandwich?"

"They didn't do chocolate and banana."

"Bollocks. How hard can it be?"

"She said sorry but that she'd make this one extra special for you."

"And extra special equals gherkins? What a dump."

"Yeah," Matt said wistfully, looking at the tiny TV screen which had practically been stapled near the ceiling and secured with gaffa tape. "Yeah it is."

"I'll sort this out," Mello said, standing. He was taking off his parka. This was not good.

"No! Manalive! I'll do it. What do you want?"

"If I want anything edible I better sort it out myself."

"Your idea of 'sorting out' usually leads to ambulances and blood on my jeans. I'll sort it out."

"Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. We're in America. They should have that. It's a staple part of the diet here," Mello declared, taking his seat again and lounging back, a lazy arm dangling over the back of the chair. They didn't make boys like Mello anymore.

"Ah, ya big pansy. 'Excuse me, can I have some peanut butter cups for the mafia don, pretty please?'"

"I'm not a don. Wanker."

"Shame, coz Marlon Brando might have been able to make peanut butter cups look quirky, maybe even a bit sinister. You'd just look like a git."

"Shut the fuck up and get me some chocolate, or I swear, Matt, I will make a soup out of your gameboys and pour it down your throat."

"Ok, Ok. It's not cool to threaten the gameboys. That is just not on."

Mello made a repetitive open/close gesture with his hand which looked like a satanic duck while he polished the leather on his knee with the wrist of his other hand. Matt shambled off to the counter with his arms straight, hands in his pockets like a little boy at a sweet shop. After a minute he returned and threw something on the table in front of Mello. It wasn't peanuty, chocolatety goodness.

"And what the fuck is this?" Mello asked, loudly. Some little old ladies with a pomeranian moved a few tables down.

"They didn't have peanut whatevers."

"What kind of place is this?"

"Mello, it's a roadside dump, as you said. They don't have peanut butter cups. Here you get … whatever that is."

"Here you go!" a friendly looking woman said, beaming at Matt who reciprocated with a charming grin. She deposited a polystyrene cup of hot chocolate in front of Mello. Mello scowled and she scampered away.

"So, how long do we have to wait?" Matt asked.

"Until they turn up," Mello replied ripping open four sugar sachets at once and depositing their load into his drink.

"How will we know?"

"When two skinheads chuck a box on the table."

"Then what?"

"Then we take the box to Jimi and then the heist is a goer. All we have to do is fuck up the security systems at the docks."

"Don't you think we're a bit young for this?" Matt pondered.

"You are."

"You're the same age as me."

"I'm 2 months older," Mello smirked.

"7 weeks," Matt corrected, moodily.

"And one day. Ha. Besides, I'm years older than you up here," Mello said, tapping his temple. "Decades and centuries older than you up here."

"Balls, peanut cups."

"Go back to the flat if you want," Mello said, brushing blond hair out of his eyes.

"Nah," Matt replied, lazily.

"Why?"

"You might get raped by the skinheads."

"Hahahaha! And you'd stop them?"

"No, they'd probably rape me instead, since I'm prettier," Matt said, pulling down the neck of his striped t-shirt to reveal a thin pectoral.

"Like shit you are," Mello said, conceitedly. Looking Matt up and down and deciding to avert his eyes to the street scene out the window.

"Didn't stop you," Matt said mournfully, stirring his hot chocolate.

"Yeah, about that… Hey, I didn't rape you!"

The old ladies with the pomeranian grabbed their handbags and left.

"No, no. That you didn't," Matt replied tenderly, winking.

"Not yet sixteen and I'm already sworn off alcohol for ever," Mello joked, leaning back into his chair again, drawing a protective leg up towards him.

"Wow," Matt said, impressed. After a few awkward moments of silence while both boys stirred whirlpools into their hot chocolates, Matt said, cheerfully, "Alcohol actually has detrimental effects upon male sexual performance."

"You little shit. Are you saying that I'm a bad shag?" Mello accused.

"No, I'm saying, imagine what it would be like if we were both sober?"

* * *

Returning to the office once L was deeply sleeping, Light's body felt heavy and listless as he slowly walked down the corridor. He could already smell coffee and tea. Perhaps Matsuda was thinking of opening a late-night café.

"Hey, Light," Matsuda chirped. How much coffee had he actually had? He was buzzing around in warp speed. Light smiled weakly and took a seat next Aizawa, who silently placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"Thanks," Light said, feeling the burn through his hands as he lifted the mug to his lips.

"How is he?" Matsuda asked. Light looked at him questioningly, which made Matsuda agitatedly start straightening the sugar sachets into a row.

"We were just saying, Light," Soichiro said, "About Ryuzaki and what we do if he needs to be hospitalised if he remains unstable and violent. The doctor was very concerned."

"He's just grieving, Dad. He's not unstable or violent," Light replied.

"No, Light. I'm not having him accuse you like he did before. If his condition doesn't improve dramatically, he's not fit to lead this investigation."

"But you said that he was just upset. That he didn't mean what he said," Matsuda chipped in.

"I don't want to do this but we have to think of what's best for Ryuzaki," Soichiro said, wearily. "I'm going to try and question him later on about any family he has. Someone who can take Watari's place. Until then, we'll have to handle the investigation ourselves until he's fit again."

"Where are the bodies?" Light said. Soichiro was surprised by the coldness.

"They've been taken to the NPA forensics. We should have reports back soon."

"And the paper? The paper Misa had?"

"It's been sent to the lab for analysis and testing."

"I don't understand how someone can kill with a piece of paper," Matsuda reflected.

"We don't know that yet. What happened, Light?" Soichiro asked. Light had expected this to come in the morning. He was startled by his father thinking that this would be the best time to question him. Then again, if Light was in his position, he'd want answers sooner rather than later too.

"I really don't know what happened, Dad. There should be footage shouldn't there?"

"Yes, I've viewed the footage."

"Well, she just told me that we had to go and I was trying to calm her down. I tried to convince her to hand herself in for questioning to prove that it wasn't her who killed Mogi-san, Ide-san, and all those people."

"And?"

"And she was adamant that I leave with her. She threatened to kill Ryuzaki and then we heard footsteps. I suppose she guessed that it was Watari and she wrote something on a piece of paper. Some name. Then he just dropped dead."

"What happened then, Light?"

"Then she tried to get me to leave. She was pulling me and I said, 'Did you do that? Did you kill Watari-san?' She said, 'Yes.' I grabbed hold of her and asked her how, and then her eyes … they – "

"Light."

"She stood for a moment and I just knew. Then she fell to the floor and I … I panicked. I'm sorry. I thought that – "

"It's all right."

"Was her name on the paper?" Matsuda asked.

"No," Soichiro answered.

"I don't understand this," Matsuda repeated. Truly, nobody did. Apart from Light.

"It's like Hashimoto. That book of death thing," Aizawa said.

"It was a fairy story. Ryuzaki said so," Matsuda replied, shaking his head.

"Then why did he send V, Aiber, and Wedy in to get it?" Aizawa asked, suspiciously.

"Look," Soichiro interrupted. "We can't do much until we get confirmation on how Misa Amane and Watari died. We need to figure out what happened today. We need _L,_ but I just don't know when or if he'll be able to work on this case again."

"I'll help, Dad. Just until Ryuzaki's better. He just needs time, I mean, would you be able to get straight back into work if I'd been killed instead of Watari?" Soichiro's eyes widened at the question.

"Don't say things like that!" Matsuda screeched. "It's bad luck! We've had enough death here. I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Well, I'm lifting the lockdown," Soichiro sighed. "Aizawa, you and Matsuda go home and get some rest. You too, Light."

"What about you, Chief?"

"I'll stay here with Ryuzaki. I have to phone Mogi and Ide's next of kin and speak to the NPA. Try and find out what's going on."

"I'll stay," Light said.

"Light, I think it'd be best if you go home and rest."

"Dad, I promised him that I'd stay – "

"It's an order, Light. Go home. Matsuda, would you please drop Light off at my house?"

"Of course, Chief."

"And the rest of you can come back when you can. Initial reports from forensics should be in by 10am but they're... preoccupied," he said. Yes, it must be a disco of a night in the mortuary.

Light shifted around uneasily. "It doesn't feel right, leaving like this," he grumbled. Part of him wanted to stay, part of him needed to go.

"Light, don't argue with me again. I'll look after Ryuzaki. You can see him in the morning, maybe."

* * *

"_It's a frontal 'lobotomy', not 'lo__botany' What were you thinking of doing? Make a nice petunia display in your skull?"_

"_I feel like death," groaned A, holding his lagging head up by a fistful of mousey-brown, tousled hair._

"_You look fine. You'd look better if you'd have some more vodka. Hell, everything looks better if you have more vodka."_

"_Nnnuhh."_

"_It's good for what ails ya."_

"_Your logic is a deformed and terrible thing. Go away."_

"_Shhh... B's about. I can hear his cloven feet in the hallway. The beast who walks."_

"_V, don't be shady."_

"_L's obviously gone to bed so he can't perv on him, which means he's coming for you."_

"_L never goes to bed. See this is one of the problems I was telling you about. How can you compete with a man with a brain the size of Everest, who never sleeps? He's not human. Even Sherlock Holmes slept sometimes."_

"_Yes but Sherlock Holmes was an opium addict and he was fictional," V pointed out, lifting a finger in emphasis._

A let his head drop as if his spine had suddenly disappeared. "_I can't. I just can't live up to his expectations."_

"_It's not L, it's Wammy. He's doing a number on us the way he did with L. L's the wunderkind so of course Wammy, the nutty professor, would like more of the same, thanks ever so. That's what this place is, Adam. It's just a dodgy factory and we're hot off the conveyor belt."_

"_Hmm. I could live with that. If we were all treated the same, I mean. It's just the pressure and this constant competition. Trying to better everyone. L loves that stuff."_

"_Sometimes it seems that way," V said, knocking back a swig of vodka from the most definitely half-empty bottle._

"T_his test he wrote for me, I didn't even understand the question. Couldn't even understand the question, V. Can you imagine how that feels? And he's sitting there all 'Hand it in when you're done!' which means he's timing me, yeah? And I'm like, shit. I need three dictionaries and two more brains to even comprehend what the hell he wants me to answer."_

"_He does like his long words, does our L. So, what did you do?"_

"_I climbed out the window."_

"_No way!"_

"_Way."_

"_That deserves a drink, my friend," she passed A the bottle. A took a congratulatory swig._

"_Whhooosh. Wow. Burn. Yes. So, I couldn't find you so I broke into my own room, ha! And I played some vinyl. The Smiths, a bit of Tears for Fears, R.E.M., Nirvana, The Cure -"_

"_Christ, I'm surprised that you're still alive. There's a recipe for disaster right there if you're already depressed."_

"_You know what? Sometimes I think I'd just be happy being a teacher or something. Maybe the civil service."_

"_That's Ok, tell them that. I did. "Yo, Wammy, my Cap'n, my Cap'n! Ix-nay on the genius heir status, I'd quite like a life please."_

"_It wasn't like that though, was it?"_

"_No, but the fact is they can't force us to do anything we don't want to do. Your brain is your brain and they can't make you use it if you say no."_

"_But they can throw us out on the bones of our arses. I'm surprised that you're still here. I was sure you'd leave."_

"_I couldn't do that," V said, softly._

"_No. I guess not. I wish that you were staying for me."_

"_Hey, you know that I wouldn't be without you. I wouldn't leave."_

"_Thanks. It's just sometimes it hits me. I can go for weeks and months fine, and then, boom. I'm faced with my own ineptitude."_

"_You're not inept. It's just part of the training to make you feel that way. You're the most promising of us so of course they'll be harder on you."_

"_I don't feel very promising, V. You know that we're just backup plans. That's all we are. L said it himself."_

"_You're too sensitive. L knows it's shitty, mate, but this is his life. He doesn't know any different. He's the first off the line, a product of the system, the nation's finest, a new hope!"_

"_You just love L."_

"_I don't love L, Mr Sulkypants. For God's sake he's like three years younger than me. I'm not a cougar. I do, however, think that a good shag would do him the world of good. Maybe we should organise a for a prostitute to call 'round on his birthday? I bet Wammy never thought of that!"_

"_Hmm."_

"_Look, he saved my life. He was ten years old and he understood everything when no one else did or cared to try. If there was no L, I'd be dead. So yeah, I have a fondness for him. Now back your car the hell up." V fumbled with a match to light a cigarette, a 'Black Russian' Sobranie. She had them imported on the sly because she was apparently born for espionage. Black paper and a gold filter tip. A didn't approve of her smoking but, Christ, they were sexy cigarettes._

_"You're not smoking in here."_

_"I am."_

_"V."_

_"Look, if you don't like it then piss off and huff in some of your precious fresh air."_

"_Shhhh. Even I heard B that time."_

"_'He's coming for you Barbara.'"_

"_This is not Night of the Living Dead, V."_

"_Might as well be. He's a creepy little bugger, perving on L, which is weird in itself. I mean, who'd choose to perv on L when I'm around. Me. L. Naughty blonde. Inspector Gadget. No contest."_

"_He can't perv on L. He's been reprimanded."_

"_Reeeeeeaaaaally? What did he do, pray? The mind boggles. I have visuals coming to mind."_

"_Nah, nothing like that. He was caught looking through L's personal files. You can imagine how L took that."_

"_Badly. Wow. I'm surprised that B's not in the hospital ward."_

"_Nice place this cupboard, isn't it?"_

"_It ain't the gateway to Narnia but it'll do. Hey, hands off. I haven't drunk anywhere near enough for any of that."_

"_Where did you go today? I couldn't find you anywhere," A asked._

"_Shooting practice."_

"_No shit!"_

"_No shit."_

"_Woah. I would have liked to have seen that."_

"_I'll have it filmed next time and put some Wagner on the soundtrack." _

"_I bet you looked amazing."_

"_Oh yes, I'm marvellous in many ways."_

"_You are. Ha, you're blushing."_

"_No I'm not. Nothing makes me blush. You couldn't tell anyway, it's pitch black in here."_

"_So, did you speak to L?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_What did he say?"_

"_Not much. He was his usual surly 'I vaaant to be alone!' self and engrossed in how long it takes for a testicle to rot at a constant temperature of 9 degrees."_

"_Why? I mean just, why? But why 9 degrees?"_

"_Oh, God knows. It's to do with some case, obviously. Some body parts were found in in Moscow once the snow melted but they show barely perceptible decomposition and apparently they have no to right to. They should be fresh as a daisy and frozen like Bird's Eye fish fingers. L has a theory which isn't standard. Heh, you know what they call them in Russian slang? The bodies that are covered in the snow and revealed in the thaw? Snowdrops. Don't you think that's kinda beautiful? Anyway, with the testicles, I don't think he does that for kicks but it's difficult to have a conversation with someone while they're staring at gonads in a jar. It's ok, I'll try Roger again tomorrow. He actually likes me."_

"_I can't believe this shit," A sighed._

"_Hey," V said calmly. "Listen, I don't want you getting involved ok? Thanks, but it would only make things worse. I can handle this. Things could be worse. Nod your head. I can't see your head, but nod it anyway so I know that you understand."_

"_Viv?" _

"_Yep?"_

"_You know I love you, don't you?"_

"_Ok, what have you done?"_

"_Nothing, why? Can't I say that I love you?"_

"_Yeah, but seriously, if you bring me flowers and chocolates at some point tomorrow then... well, I'll take them of course. But I'll know that there's some serious shit going on and I'll be after your head with my bow and arrow."_

"_Your bow and arrow?"_

"_Yeah, I'm totally 'Lord of the Rings'-ing it, baby. Roger insisted that I learn archery just incase L has to fight some orcs or something."_

"_Haaaa."_

"_I know. Roger. Tut Tut. What next? Personally I think it's just because it looks good when the members of the board come to visit. Y'know, me on the front lawn shooting arrows for no good reason. It's all a bit olde worlde poncey 'our standards are so high that our students are taught the skills to kill their own lunch.'"_

"_Ha."_

"_So, how have you been?" V asked with concern._

"_Ok."_

"_Really?"_

"_Yeah. Well, not really great, I'm not singing songs from 'Guys and Dolls' yet, but I'm ok."_

"_You'd be Marlon Brando. He was sexy."_

"_Stop it."_

"_Betcha you're blushing."_

"_Yeah, I am a bit. You win."_

"_Numpty." She took another swig. _

"_How much do you have to drink of that stuff before you'll play nice?"_

"_Another bottle, then I'm anybody's."_

"_I have a hipflask."_

"_We have a winner!"_

"_Good, because I -"_

_The wardrobe door opened suddenly, filling the interior with light and blinding the pair temporarily._

"_What are you doing?" a voice asked._

"_OHMYGOD! For fuck's sake, B. Piss the fuck off! You nearly gave us heart attacks!" V shouted angrily._

"_Yeah B, you can't sneak up on people like that," A said, somewhat calmer and kinder._

"_Sorry. Why are you in a wardrobe?"_

"_Is nice 'ere," V slurred._

"_Can I come in."_

"_There's no room."_

"_V," A reprimanded. "Sure there's room, B, here."_

"_Thanks, A. Are you two drinking al-co-hol?" B sounded the words out like a child._

"_Yes, we're drinking al-co-hol. We're drinking alcohol too. I'll be drinking a brewery before the night's over. Go and tell someone," V said, cattily._

"_Haven't you got shooting practice tomorrow, V?" B asked._

"_Ha! Yeah. Oh dear. Hey, A, we'll have to figure how being inebriated affects my aim so I can compensate. Alter the uh... the... trajad... err... the trajectory. Or something."_

"_Drinking is against the Wammy's House rules," B stated with some finality._

"_Yeah, and so is pulling the wings off a butterfly, you little shit, so-"_

"_Woah. We're not going there again. B knows that it was wrong. The end. Leave it, V," A refereed._

"_It was it's time," B said, matter-of-factly._

"_B."_

"_Wot do you mean it was it's time? You made it it's time. You tore it apart because you're a sick little arssssewipe," V shouted, the words sticking together with glue._

"_V, please. My head is a jar of pickled onions at the moment and I've got another Great and Powerful L test tomorrow. You screaming in a confined space is not helping," A said, palming the sides of his face._

"_Yeah, V. Think of A. You're not helping," B agreed._

"_You... You're a serial killer in the making, that's wot you are. When you crack, I will take greaaaat pleasure in shooting your face into next week. With my bow and shitting arrow too!"_

"_Hello, hello. What's going on here?" a voice cooed as the wardrobe doors swung open again. __ A gasped, shielding his eyes from the bright light of the room._

"_JESUS!"_

"_No, it's only me," the baritone voice replied. Someone was holding the wardrobe door wide open, brutally letting the light blind his captives. Once everyone's eyes adjusted, they were confronted by L, who peered disinterestedly at them with a lollipop between his thin fingers._

"_L, what the fuck?" V exclaimed._

"_Are you hiding from the gestapo?" L asked._

"_How did you find us?" B was in awe. Even if it had been Jesus, rather than L, he probably wouldn't have been anywhere near as impressed._

"_Educated guess. The location of idiot is the square root of this building, one idiot times three, divided by two a.m in the morning, plus a bottle of vodka and Balkan tobacco equals..."_

"_Wardrobe!"_

"_Yes, B. Wardrobe. That, and I heard V's caterwauling from down the hall."_

"_See," A admonished V._

"_You better go to bed now. Your own beds. Alone," L stated firmly._

"_Jusss lemme finish this drink."_

"_You've had enough, V."_

"_I really haven't."_

"_Right. I'm going to pull rank now and insist that you stop, have a vitamin C tablet, and go to bed."_

"_A and V were about to have sex in the wardrobe, so I stopped them," B said, chirpily._

"_Well, B, people who love each other very much do often end up having sex in wardrobes...so I hear. Anyway, A and V are not having sex in the wardrobe, not on my watch. It would be most distracting. I'm trying to watch 'The Sky at Night with Patrick Moore'."_

"_Snnnaaarrrfff..."_

"_V. Bed." _

"_I needsssto talk wiv you."_

"_Of course you can, V. Tomorrow. When you're not in a wardrobe, don't smell like a drunk in Windsor Park, and you can look me in the eye without swaying."_

_"But you're always looking at testicles!" V wailed, sinking her face into A's shoulder._

"_She was drinking so A could have sex with her," B said._

"_Will you shutuppyaface?" V screeched._

"_How long were you listening out there?" A asked B._

"_A, I'm disappointed in you. Just generally disappointed. But I really am at the moment. You seemed like such a nice boy," L said, hand on hip._

"_He is. He is a nice boy," V said, drowsily._

"_Hey V, guess who I saw today," B said conspiratorially._

"_A correction officer, I hope."_

"_No, I saw a secret."_

"_A secret. Big woo."_

"_A pretty secret... Viv."_

_V's eyes widened. _"_I'm going to tear your -"_

"_OKAY that is enough. B, you're already in trouble. Bed, or feel my wrath," L said._

"_I'll feel your wrath, please."_

"_Oh."_

"_How the hell do you know my name? Urgh, just fuck off B," V said._

"_Yes," L said. "As V eloquently put it, let's all fuck off so that I can watch Patrick Moore."_

* * *

Light had managed to extricate himself from his mother and Sayu, wide eyed in floral dressing gowns and offers of food and... ugh, tea. With many apologies, he locked himself in his room. Thin reeds of moonlight streaked across the room through the blinds. Hovering over the bed was the Ryuk's leather bandaged dead tree of a body. The sight of the shinigami steeled Light. They smiled at each other like old comrades who had been in different prisoner of war camps for many years.

"Back here again then, Light?"

"It looks that way," he said, tossing him an apple he'd taken from the fruit bowl near the stairs. Ryuk gorged himself. The crimson sheen and sandy flesh disappeared within seconds. "I was wondering where you were."

"Just visiting. I can't stay," he grinned. "Hey, I like your style, buddy. So, now you're the owner of a Death Note again. Two Death Notes."

"Do you know where the other one is?"

"Nah. I know that Rem's is under a carpet tile though."

"What do you mean, Rems? It was Misa's. You're my shinigami now."

"Hurr."

"Anyway, I know that it's under a carpet tile. I put it there. It's safe where it is, for now. Anyway, I've got this," he said holding up a folded sheet of paper, upon which ink of Misa's name had dried and killed her. "The point is that it's mine."

"Ha, yeah. What about the piece from your watch? I noticed that L was wearing it. I didn't get it at first but then I saw your lovely overtures of love. Didn't know that you were keen on boys, buddy."

"Shut up, Ryuk."

"Risky, isn't it? This whole thing. Why didn't you kill him? Because you luuuuurve him? Light and L sitting in a tree, –"

"L will die," Light interrupted, coldly, "But it'll be on my terms and for the greatest gain. There is absolutely no point in rushing. Kira can work under his nose."

"You might as well have killed him. I don't think he'll be up for much of anything after this. He knows it was you, y'know. I don't know how. Guess he knows you better than most."

"He's clever..." Light said, lying down upon his bed which was just how he left it, only the sheets were cold against his back. "But not as clever as I am."

* * *

**A/N: **Ok, so L's gone nuts.

Yes, V's real name - Vivienne, and A's real name - Adam in this fic. Seemed likely.

**Disclaimer, etc.**

Oooh, more mentions of scaffolds. L's line that Light was "always to be my scaffold" is taken from _The Revenger's Tragedy_ by Thomas Middleton. Very funny play. Really. I know that it doesn't sound like it, but it is. The original line is, "Her beauty was ordained to be my scaffold".

More Greek mythology references - Orpheus and Eurydice, Hades. Cool.

"Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another_._" _The Iliad_ by Homer.

"Afraid she was no longer there, and eager to see her, the lover turned his eyes. In an instant she dropped back, and he, unhappy man, stretching out his arms to hold her and be held, clutched at nothing but the receding air." -_ The Metamorphoses by Ovid._

Snowdrops - It's true! It is Moscow slang for corpses in the snow. I read about it in a crime novel which is, indeedy, called "Snowdrops". It's by A.D. Miller. **EDIT:** A Russian reviewer tells me that it's slang used all over Russia, not just in Moscow. Thank you!


	14. How I Made My Millions

**A/N: **Reviewers, you are amazing. A* for effort. Collect your winnings and pass go.

L and Light scenes are set about two or three weeks after the events of the last one. More wangst. It won't last.

* * *

**Chapter 14: How I Made My Millions**

_I was stronger_

_I was better_

_Picked you out_

_Now don't say a word_

_No, don't yell out_

_Never mind_

_Let you out_

_Led you back_

_Stay on_

_Sit down_

_Let it fall_

~ Radiohead

* * *

In Switzerland, of all places, Mello had been chatted up by some guy in a club. This was standard practice because Mello had a sort of androgynous, slightly fragile, extremely dangerous way about him. He was a bit like a bright flame that was burning out too quickly, and people were attracted to that. Matt watched, smiling, and followed them when Mello agreed to go 'outside' with the slimy gent. You'd think that would have been the end of it, except the slimy gent turned out to be part of a crime syndicate. He was in Geneva on business to deposit some twenty million dollars into his Swiss bank account. It just came up in conversation while Mello held a gun barrel against the roof of the man's mouth.

Upshot was, Mello and Matt were hired as runners. Within weeks, their brilliance had been noticed and they became much valued members, developing and exacting heists so perfectly that it made even the most experienced heads spin. The first month that Mello and Matt worked with the group, they brought in triple what the gang normally did. A great talent of theirs was leaving absolutely no tracks which, coupled with their 100% success rate in blackmailed victim compliance, tied their crimes up with a nice little bow. It was like taking candy from a maternity ward's worth of babies. They were frightening. Mello and Matt. Teenage boys frightening hardened criminals.

The family business was literally a family business, and the two boys were dragged in and treated like sons with strange clothes. In truth, the kindness probably had more to do with their golden abilities than genuine affection but nevertheless, to two orphans, they'd take what they could get. Mello thought that he'd found his calling. Matt still wondered whether he should be a programmer working on the next _Grand Auto Theft_ game. Then Astraea really cracked down and ruined everything.

Mello had been in the room when it happened; a greasy, stinking basement with nicotine stained paper peeling from the damp walls like dripping flesh. They were watching TV and playing a bit of pool while Mello went over the particulars of the up and coming job to them. They were laughing at something when the five burly gang enforcers dropped dead, leaving Mello alone in the quiet. He remained spread upon the couch like a king observing a sudden execution. Mello had stopped, mid-bite of chocolate as the men, his friends, fell to the ground.

He paused. Seconds passed. He was alive. He stood up slowly, stepped over Al's body to calmly turn off the television before silently climbing the stairs. In the house, Mello walked past the kitchen where the gang's matriarch and her daughter-in-law lay sprawled out on the black and white tiled floor. A baby was crying. It's mother was dead. The kids had stopped playing outside. They lay silent on the grass like they'd been dropped from the sky. The boss and his brothers by blood and arms, all dead in the living room. Mello waded through the eerie stillness. No birdsong. No noise. None except the quiet tinnitus of Matt's stereo upstairs. Mello put his hand on the stair rail and something within him snapped. He bolted for Matt's office expecting to find what he dreaded most in the world, and burst the door open. It hit the wall with a dank thud and swung back a little while Mello stood in the doorway.

Matt spun around on his computer chair as Mello stood staring, dumbfounded, thankful, so close to loss that he could almost hear it whisper in his ear: Not now, but soon. Then you'll be alone.

Matt's hand was still poised over a keyboard in the middle of remotely hacking into a police server with the ease of five fingers. A fat cigarette stub resting on an ashtray. Smoke rising. The screen a map of digits. "What's happened?" he asked. His voice was low, as if he already knew.

Mello took him in with his eyes and offered a silent prayer for the gangly limbs, the mop of blood-red hair, the questioning navy blue eyes. Still alive. He half-walked, half-ran, dropping to his knees at Matt's feet. "Everyone's dead, Matty."

Matt looked blank. Nothing in his face but resolve. "We're getting out of here," he replied, curving a reassuring hand over Mello's blonde skull.

* * *

Matt packed their things, stuffing them into a hold-all like weeds in a bucket while Mello stood against the wall in his track suit, thumbing the cross of his rosary in silence while he questioned in his mind. Where _are_ you?_  
_

"We'll take the Peugeot. Less obvious," Matt said. So businesslike. He was like a different person, but then, he'd been expecting this, hadn't he? He said that it wouldn't last.

"But, the Ducatti," Mello said, pathetically. Like a spoiled child.

"We'll get you another Ducatti. We'll take the car and we'll dump it in Bristol."

"Matt."

"Mell, grab some of your stuff. We're going," Matt replied, zipping up the bag impatiently.

"The baby's downstairs. It's alive,"

"We'll phone the police once we get a fair distance. Take Gerry's phone for the call and break the safe. We need money."

"Matt."

Blue eyes met. Matt was going to drill this into Mello's head with cold, bare facts. "Mello. We're alive. They're not. Get the stuff and let's go."

* * *

So they got to Bristol and it felt like the apocalypse was at their heels. A day later they were in Cornwall; the end of the land. Twisted trees, contorted by the Atlantic, branches like open palms to the skies. They paid a small fishing boat to take them to Brittany, smuggling them out the country. It was very dangerous. Chances were that they'd all be killed. But they weren't. They carved their lives back from Astraea.

But it had been in Geneva, all those months ago, that Mello had burned the letter. As soon as he'd committed the contents to memory, he'd grabbed Matt's glowing cigarette and set the paper and envelope alight from the corners, watching them flash like a solar flare and curl into a flower of ashes. Refusing to tell Matt what was in the letter caused quite a sore point between them which hadn't quite healed. Especially now. Especially since things between them had become a bit more complicated. There was nothing like a near-death experience to make people fall in love like idiots, and Matt and Mello were complete and utter idiots.

Mello had all but disregarded the letter as the two boys sped across Europe on a stolen Ducatti. The moment was in Rome, in a dismal flat. Matt was sleeping in skinny jeans and the air was cold and stank of smoke. Mello slipped into his leathers and left on his motorbike. He rode for hours, in circles maybe before, somewhere in one of the cubes of Roman gridded streets within sight of Vatican City, he pulled over at a phonebox. The phone rang for what seemed like forever. He pulled the receiver away from his ear and was just about to replace it and his stupid, stupid thoughts down and out of his mind.

Someone picked up.

Mello hesitantly drew the phone back. His breathing was the only thing he could hear. Long seconds passed.

"Mihael?"

Mello breathed and closed his eyes. His mouth was closeted within the cup of the phone, his own breathing reflected back upon him and warmed his face in the chill air. He gripped onto his rosary with his free hand as he replied, "Is it really you?"

* * *

L couldn't tell whether it was the room or his vision which was tinged with an apathetic, blue-ish mist. He'd thought idly a few times throughout the day that maybe he should mention it to Light, but then Light would have already noticed it and was obviously unconcerned. Unless... unless it was only L who could see it. He had begun to mention it to Light earlier that morning. L was barely holding his own against gravity and Light was stalking around the bathroom in that mechanic way of his. L had tried to speak, but it was in so clumsy a fashion that in the end he didn't see the point in continuing in trying to make himself understood. Light had seen the struggle, the hesitant grasping at words in the air. He'd walked over and brushed his lips over the hollow of L's cheek and across his cheekbone. L suspected that Light preferred him when he was quiet anyway.

When he first noticed the mysterious underwater cast to the room, it was because he'd been looking at Light. He glanced back at the watch on his wrist, and back at Light.

"The copper in your hair isn't as bright as I remember it," he said mournfully.

Over the months he had wasted a great deal of time considering the many qualities of Light Yagami, his hair included. It was so different to his own, which was a rather flat black in his own rather disinterested opinion, but which Light had, on one occasion when he was in one of his more amorous moods, likened to a "crow-black sea". Whether it was intended as a compliment, an insult, or was just an instance of Light being temporarily seized with the soul of poetry, L didn't really put much thought into. Mostly because he wasn't in the least concerned with such vanities.

However, he was interested in Light's hair, composed as it was of millions of silken strands which varied in colour from a deep bronze to a golden blonde. A true 'crowning glory' which men and women spend thousands over the course of their lives in trying to achieve. Light was born, no, crafted with this beauty and, since he was generally blessed in all things, he took it for granted. L didn't. Light's hair, in the florescence of the office, could burn a brilliant deep copper. L hadn't been constructing his sentences as thoughtfully as he usually did. The checking point between his brain and his mouth had shut up shop. Involuntary exclamations such as musings about a certain person's hair colour were an increasingly regular occurrence and cut a jagged line through conversations. Light seemed surprised by these outbursts at first. A fine eyebrow would rise and amber eyes widen at this L who, so unfocused and dreamlike, blurted out such sensitive declarations with the innocent simplicity of a child. However, in the last few days Light no longer questioned L's strange, detached observations. In fact, more often than not, they inspired a sudden rush of affection and he would place a kind but dismissive hand over L's before reverting back to the topic in hand. The night before, apparently particularly struck by L's words (although what was said, L couldn't recall), Light swept some threads of hair from L's forehead and placed the softest of kisses above his eye. The corners of his lips upturned in a semblance of a gentle smile. To L, the remembrance of the kiss was a bruise in his memory.

'One man, Pygmalion, shocked at the vices Nature has given only too often, chose to live alone. To have no woman in his bed. But meanwhile he made, with marvelous art, a statue, and gave it greater beauty than any girl could have, and fell in love with his own workmanship.

'The best art, they say, is that which conceals art.'

The copper has gone because of the blue, L thought. Blue cancels out orange. But then there is no colour really. It's all just white light. Light. Instinctively L turned again towards the straight-backed boy next to him. Light's keen eyes were staring intensely at a mass of data on his computer screen while madly twirling a pen between his fingers like an enthusiastic cheerleader with a baton. L couldn't make out what it was he was reading. The screen looked blurred.

Light must have sensed L's attention and by turning to face him was met with L's haunted, staring eyes. Instinctively Light hunched his shoulders protectively, curving his spine, leaning on his elbows, and sighed. "Are you alright?" he enquired, softly.

Despite his hushed tone, the room was as silent as a monastery and other task force eyes turned at the sound of the whisper. Light flashed a weak smile their way while leaning closer towards L in an attempt to keep their conversation more private. He noted some regret that their working hours were no longer accompanied by the tapping of computer keyboards which used to act as some cover. Some weeks before, perhaps months before all this, L had acquiesced to Light's growing fury over the annoying noise keeping him awake at night. He had ordered 'silent keyboards for all the computers, not just the laptop he used in their bedroom, partly as an irritated jab at Light, partly because he could, and partly because he didn't like to see Light upset by something he could fix without much effort. The novelty of seeing him overtired and in a temper had worn off. L slept at night now. Slept most of the time actually. It was Light who stayed up into the early hours on the laptop.

"I... yes," L replied.

"You were staring."

"Was I?" said L, tilting his head to one side, utterly bemused.

"It's ok, I just wondered if you needed something," Light soothed. His voice was a balm to L who felt anxiety like a pang of hunger in his core. He didn't know why and pondered the words for a moment. The pause seemed to alarm Light and he hastily added on the subtext as a prompt, "Cake or tea or something?"

"No, I'm..." L's voice and black velvet eyes drifted as if lost in thought.

Light had, without discussion, taken over the role of Watari in terms of keeping L supplied with enough cake and tea (which often went untouched and left to go cold) to feed an army. Sometimes during the day, Matsuda would help out, running to the kitchen to cut slices of cake, but that was all Light would trust him with. He feared breakages and ugly, clumsy-looking sundaes which L would pout at. Light protested that he was hardly inconvenienced by the regular trips to the kitchen to prepare tea or coffee for L. After all, he had precious opportunity now for exercise. Watari had had a daily order and delivery with several local bakeries, so Light sent Matsuda around with payment every week. So, in essence, little had changed since Watari had been seen so irregularly by the task force anyway. Only L missed him, when he remembered him at all. At first, Light had started ordering in different teas and preparing them himself, referring to his being a member of a tea club at high school and saying how calming it was to prepare tea properly. He even went so far with this new pursuit as to order in some fine, porcelain senchawan bowls which he presented to L as a gift. He despaired when he realised that any prized subtly in flavour was massacred by the amount of sugar L added. He was weaning him off it.

As Light leaned closer, he brought L's focus back to him by resting his tapering fingers around L's wrist, below the watch. His finger rested on a jutting bone. "You're allowed to sleep, you know. We've been over this."

"I'm fine," L replied with a slightly dazed expression. His eyes studied Light's hand on his arm, noting the contrast of Light's even golden colour against the stark, ghostly whiteness of his own skin. A blue vein was popping, throbbing under Light's fingertip

"No. No, you're not," Light said, resolutely, removing his hand and standing up. "Ryuzaki is taking a break. That's ok with everyone, isn't it?" Light announced to the rest of the task force.

"Yes, Ryuzaki. That sounds like a good idea. You'll feel better after a rest," Soichiro encouraged. Matsuda nodded approvingly while Aizawa simply glanced over, briefly. But L felt alright now. Why was everyone trying to get rid of him? He'd been working. It wasn't as if he was just sitting here. He turned towards his computer monitor, noticing the blank white screen and the cursor flashing impatiently, still awaiting imput after... how many hours? He felt hands grip his wrists and - "At least let's just get out of this room," Light whispered, close in the shell of his ear.

L looked up in alarm. Light's face looked like kindness itself with a flash of urgency in his eyes and with a face and demeanour that could charm birds from the trees. L knew better than most what lay underneath. Underneath there were bloody fibres and bones stained with marrow. It would look the same as anyone else's, but it was beautiful because it was Light. Within that mass, the synapses flickered with evil electric hope and furious intent. Light was powered by thoughts that L could only imagine. They were ugly, those thoughts. People would be surprised. Or maybe they'd think them beautiful too because they were Light's? They'd think them glorious, like Misa had. People make excuses for perfection. This perfect contradiction. This was all L had, and for moment he was seized with fear.

"I don't need to go," he said.

"Ryuzaki, come on," Light urged. A hand snaked around L's back, running over vertebrae, making him shiver. L automatically obeyed, registering some flare of irritation that his own body was apparently not accepting orders from his brain and was choosing to do what Light wanted. He was just like everyone and everything else.

"I'll work on the laptop upstairs, Dad. It's the only way to make sure that he gets some sleep. I'll be back later," Light said to Soichiro as he guided L past.

L's skin prickled at being spoken about like a baby. This whole situation was ridiculous. A mass murderer was essentially running his own investigation. The 'World's Greatest Detective' being told what to do and looked after by a serial killer? Because that's what Light was, wasn't he?

_Light._

_Murderer._

The blue mist was no different in the corridor. L's eyes turned to the ceiling to inspect the florescent lights to see if they were the cause. The doors slid shut behind them, like a breath. He noticed that the feeling under his feet was warm and soft and something triggered in his brain. It's the carpet, you idiot. You're in your room. That was quick. Walking was quick and painless when Light was leading.

Oh, there's the box with the tea bowls Light gave me. Light could be so kind, he thought. You'd never think that it was all a lie. Like a child, he loved how the blossoming flower decoration on the bowls changed colour when hot water was poured in. He and Light had both smiled as Light rotated the bowl so they could admire it from every angle like a secret.

"There," Light said with accomplished finality, adding some pressure on L's shoulders. In effect, he forced L to sit on the edge of the bed - a mannequin being articulated into the desired shape and position of the artist. Noticing L's gaze on the tea bowl box, Light placed a hand on the crook of L's neck, faint pressure upon taut tendons, the strings of a violin. "Shall we have some tea?" Light asked.

L didn't answer, and apparently it wasn't necessary for him to since Light had already made his way over to the box, unlocking the brass closure and exposing the bone-white porcelain lying on a black silk bed. He took two bowls and disappeared into the small kitchen. Moments later L heard the sound of water filling a kettle, drawers opening and closing. Each sound registered in his brain like delayed flash cards. He stood and walked the window. One of his hands reached across his chest and gripped his shoulder, but it was no comfort. When Light reappeared some minutes later, setting the tray down on a small desk, his eyes met L's from across the room. The sun was dying. L's hair was coloured by that intense blue twilight. Funny how in that near darkness, Light seemed to disappear while L would gain colour and presence. After a few moments, Light started towards the lamp on the desk.

"Don't," L said firmly. It was the most decisive tone he'd taken on for weeks. Then softly, barely a whisper, "Kill me in the dark."

If Light heard him or not, he didn't acknowledge it. He turned his eyes to the bowls on the tray, already poured, and began stirring one. L saw a mercurial flash of a silver spoon catching whatever was left of the gloaming as the silhouette drew closer. He reached out a claw-like hand, fingers grasping Light's shirt. Light held out one bowl for L.

"Here," Light said.

_Take it back and we'll forget this happened._

"See if I've got the sugar right this time."

_No, then._

L stared at Light for a few moments more before his grasp loosened and he reached for the proffered cup.

"There should be a sugar plantation in Hawaii named after you. You must keep them in business," Light said with a forced cheeriness before sipping his own tea nonchalantly. L's eyes remained cold when he looked up from the bowl and the glossy, swirling liquid.

"So you're here to make sure that I sleep?" L said, darkly.

"It'll do you good," Light replied, taking another sip.

"You made sure that I slept while you buried Watari. Haven't I slept enough?"

"You know that you couldn't have gone to the funeral."

"What was it like?" L said sadly, staring at the tea again.

"I don't know. I stayed with you."

L's eyes snapped up. It was nearly dark now but Light could see that his eyes were wide, bright, and sharp. He glanced back at the untouched cup in L's hands.

"You... stayed?"

Light ignored the question he didn't feel the need to answer and turned his gaze to the window. "Dad said that it was quick and simple. Just as your regulations state: In the event of a task force member's death - no fuss, dealt with as quickly as possible. It won't have attracted any attention."

"There's something I need to do. I need to speak to someone," L said urgently, overcome with a dazed panic in remembering something he should have done long ago.

"Maybe tomorrow," Light said softly, rubbing tiny circles into L's arm with his thumb. "You could visit the grave one day. I'd like to go and pay my respects too."

"There's no point," L stated flatly. His body noticeably stiffened as his resolve crumbled. He lifted the bowl of cooling tea to his mouth for emphasis, draining it in one go.

"It might give you..."

"If you say the word 'closure' I will beat your head in with this fucking thing," L said with a shocking abruptness. His words stunned both Light and himself into frozen mockeries of themselves, staring at each other and trying to work out what happened. L's hand grew weak and he dropped the bowl to the floor. He stood there, hands at his sides staring at the ghost of fallen porcelain in the dimness. Light eventually reached down and picked it up, running a finger along the rim to check for chips and cracks.

"L," Light said softly, looking into disbelieving eyes. As their eyes locked, L snapped his eyelids shut, grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead as he turned and he strode towards the bed.

"No. Not L. I'm Ryuzaki to you. Or Rue, or... Who's L, anyway? It's not me." The last few words were muffled against the pillow as he curled in upon himself like a dying leaf. Light placed the two empty bowls on the table before easing down to sit on the bed, staring at L's back and the painfully thin, glass-like shoulders which protruded through his t-shirt as he tensed. Light instinctively placed a hand on the small of his back, a patch of skin exposed above the faded indigo of his jeans. "I'm fine now. I've had my tea. You can go back downstairs and work because I'm resting," L said, edged in sarcasm. He flinched against Light's touch.

"I was going to stay with you for a while. I don't want to leave you like this. Do you want me to go?"

"Yes, I... No. No, I need you to stay," L faltered. His voice was the essence of defeat. His shoulders unlocked and his body was no longer a twisted spring, "I don't think I'll wake up again."

Light unfolded a blanket from the end of the bed and climbed beside L, curving himself along the man's back like an echo while draping the blanket over, reaching forwards to tuck one corner under L's chin. L grasped the hand and held it desperately as if fighting some terrible fear, and that this hand was the only thing grounding him. Light eased back into the pillow, smiling to himself as he pressed his forehead into the broad plains of L's back. He breathed in the clean scent of cotton which rose and fell with shallow breaths as his fingers gently raking through black lacquered hair.

In the kitchen, in the unassuming blue and white capsules, in the Codeine bottle in which it did not belong, was the powder which Light had calmly poured into L's tea and masked with sugar.

* * *

_"L? _L, wake up."

_Wake up, child._

"L?"

_Are you still in bed?_

"_Come on, L."_

_Come on, don't you know you've kept him waiting?_

_Pay attention._

_Open your eyes._

_We are of the going water and the gone. We are of water in the holy land of water. _

_Can you not see that little light up there?_

"Where?"

_There_

"Where?"

_Over here_

"L, wake up."

"Light?"

"You were dreaming."

"Was I?"

"I've never seen you dream before."

"Oh."

"It was thrilling."

"Was it?"

"No, not really. What were you dreaming about?"

"No. That's mine."

"Oh. Ok then," Light said, pulling away.

"Where are you going?" L said, trying to catch Light's arm, but his hand didn't seem capable of gripping anything and it flopped miserably back onto the bed. He couldn't open his eyes. They were too heavy and full of grit.

"We're having a meeting. I thought you'd like to join us," Light said, gazing down upon L.

"Ah."

"Do you want me to postpone it?" he said, frostily.

"What?"

"The meeting. Shall I postpone it? You should be there."

"Ah. Yes. Postpone."

"I'll run you a bath."

"Oh God."

"Don't 'Oh God' me. It'll wake you up."

"No it won't."

"Come on, sit up."

"Ugh," L moaned as Light dragged him into a sitting position, or what should have been a sitting position if L had any bones at all. He leaned heavily against Light, his face falling into the white shirt underneath Light's black suit.

"You're still tired?" Light said, curving over to see L's face.

"Hmmm..." L said into Light's chest.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

_Always_

* * *

"He's not ready yet. He said he'll be down after lunch," Light said to the questioning faces around the table as he entered the office.

"This is ridiculous. He's put it off twice already. So, what? Are we supposed to sit here?" Aizawa mumbled moodily. "Listen, when he deigns to appear, give me a call. Until then, I'm going home to see my daughter."

"Aizawa, sit down," Soichiro said, quietly.

"It's a Saturday, Chief. This is my day off so I can see my kid and I came here especially because we were led to believe that L would be holding a meeting. It's never going to happen."

"There's a few things we can discuss before he arrives," Light said, sitting down and straightening his tie.

"I thought L was leading this investigation?"

"Ryuzaki is ill but he is still leading this investigation. If you want to leave, Aizawa-san, then please do. I'll explain to him that the case was interfering with your plans."

"Light!" Soichiro reprimanded, "Aizawa-san. Please accept my apologies. This is a difficult time. Light, apologise." Light lifted his head to his father, his expression was blank and unyielding. "Light?" said Soichiro, crestfallen. Light looked away, practically rolling his eyes with boredom.

"While Ryuzaki is ill, he has appointed me to head the team in his stead. But, as I say, he'll be down later," he said.

"Well I'm not waiting," Aizawa stated.

"Governments and authorities across the world have paid L huge sums to 'deign' them with his attention for a few minutes, and you can't be bothered to wait a couple of hours for him?" Light snapped, his eyes flashing like daggers.

"Light, that's enough," Soichiro said. He sounded defeated.

"I don't know why you're being so protective of him," Aizawa attacked Light, his voice raised, "You of all people. Wasn't it L who had you locked up in solitary for over a month? He thinks that you're Kira for God's sake!"

"If you remember, Aizawa, I volunteered. That's what it took. Ryuzaki had to explore every avenue to be assured of my innocence."

"Oh, I _bet_ he did."

"That's enough!" Soichiro slammed his hand down upon the table and stood, "Aizawa, go home to your family until Monday. If anything happens, we'll call you."

"Chief," Aizawa bowed his head, glared at Light, and left the room in frosty silence.

"So," Light began, unnervingly unflustered and looking back over his notes like a newsreader, "the murders at the gala appear to have been instrumented by Misa Amane. The hypothesis is that she had, in her possession, pieces of a book of death similar, if not the same, as that which was in the possession of Yoshi Hashimoto. If the names of an individual are written on such paper, it causes the death of that person. Of course, we cannot test this theory. It is morally abhorrent. I certainly cannot sanction such an order."

"Ryuzaki will. It'll be like that Lind L. wotzit guy. He'll get someone on death row to test it on," Matsuda chirped.

"I will oppose that measure," Light said.

"But Light, how will we find out otherwise?"

"The taking of life is a last resort. I hope that more evidence will make itself available so we don't have to take that action."

'What evidence?"

"It is my theory that Hashimoto's Book of Death survived the fire. I feel that Hashimoto either lived long enough to put some distance between himself and the church, or that after our team was forced to leave, the book was taken from the site by person or persons unknown."

"That's unlikely, Light. The fire was very intense and spread rapidly. Anyone in that building would have been overcome by smoke within seconds."

"Not necessarily. I believe that the fire was orchestrated. In any case, the paper showed no fingerprints other than Misa Amane's, my own, and my father's from when we found them on her body. The paper lists the names of all those who were killed at the Tokyo gala festival at which Amane was due to perform. There were also names listed which we have confirmed as people who died of natural causes around the fourth of November. These names include one which I believe to be the birth name of the man we knew as 'Aiber'. Watari-san's name, which, if the theory of a Book of Death is correct, would be 'Quillish Wammy'. I can find no photographs or information relating to 'Quillish Wammy' and I have not yet been able to verify his identity through L. There is the possibility that L will choose not to verify it, in which case, officially, we only have the list of the gala victims to go on. I've printed out scans of the sheets found on Misa Amane. The handwriting is undoubtedly hers. As you can see, with the gala death victims, she specifies the mode of death after each name, drawing a symbol which matches self-inflicted injuries found on the bodies. It seems that this would be an effort to replicate Astraea's murders. It does not take a leap of imagination to consider the idea that paper such as that found on Misa Amane, or a so-called Book of Death, is in Astraea's possession."

"This is how they do it?" Soichiro asked.

"Indeed. I suggest that the Hashimoto book has been placed on the black market, portioned out, and sold off. However, if this were the case then the cost would be enormous, well beyond the funds of Misa Amane. Therefore, Amane either came into the possession of this paper through other means at a previous date, or she was given this by another party."

"But why?"

Light inclined his head as if to say, 'Matsuda, I cannot believe that someone as stupid as you has reached adulthood.'

"You're suggesting that Amane received the papers in return for sexual favours?" Soichiro said.

"If that is so, then it was before she was apprehended by L. I cannot say that I ever had any idea that she was involved with anyone in the underworld, but then, this wouldn't have been difficult to hide as I saw her on very few occasions."

"I thought that you were her boyfriend, Light," Matsuda mumbled, sadly.

"Unfortunately she developed an infatuation which was entirely one-sided," Light answered before continuing, "The other option is that she was given this paper by someone involved with Astraea. As you are aware, Ryuzaki suspects an operative of that organisation is working within Japan. This might explain Amane's death by heart attack as it is unlikely that Astraea would approve that a mockery of their 'judgements' being undertaken. The number of people with access to this Book of Death, or pieces thereof, must be very limited as Amane's death occured within forty minutes of the events first being broadcast and confined to Japanese news stations."

"So whoever killed Amane did so from within Japan," Soichiro said.

"Probably. It would mean that whoever killed Misa Amane knew her personally, or knew of her and her ability and possession of this paper. They knew that she must have been the one responsible for the gala deaths. The conclusion is that Misa Amane has, at some point, met with Astraea."

"But how?"

"As we know, V was the agent who was watching Amane and is now deceased also. V did, however, leave a record of all of Amane's movements which is very thorough. I can see no opportunity which Amane might have had to communicate with Astraea or anyone else who could be suspected. Amane's phone records show nothing suspicious. Matsuda, your records, while not quite as detailed, do not suggest that she was at any time out of your sight. There is the problem."

* * *

After the meeting, Light set up the chess board in the office and began to compete against himself while Matsuda and Soichiro continued their informal discussion about Light's revelations. Light's eyes kept, completely of their own accord, flicking up to the seat opposite him, to where L should be sitting. Assured that he'd tied everyone in the appropriate knots, he was going to spend some time to tie himself in some.

Ryuk had not returned, which meant that Light had Rem's personal Death Note after all, as Ryuk suggested that night, and not Misa's Death Note. This had the benefit of not being followed by a shinigami with an apple fixation, but it meant that there was yet another Death Note in the world which was in the hands of another. Two Death Notes gone AWOL. What joy.

Light was at least the owner of one of those missing Death Notes, the one he took from Hashimoto, but that didn't stop someone else using it. If Light didn't retrieve that missing Death Note within the next year or so, he would lose his ownership. He was sure that he'd find it shortly.

Now, Misa's Death Note, the one he'd planted under the tree for her - that was missing. She did definitely own it at some point because Light had seen Ryuk. Ryuk had been Misa's shinigami. There was no sign of it at her apartment. Light checked her bank accounts and interrogated her friends and family with no success. So where was the Death Note and who owned it? Who was Ryuk possessing now?

Light's eyes fluttered up to thin air again. Yes, L's seat was still empty. His head ached. His arms ached. He stood and walked out of the room like a robot while his father and Matsuda watched him leave.

* * *

"Ryuzaki?"

"Here, Light-kun," a soft voice answered. Light shut the bedroom door and started pulling impatiently at his tie. He followed the sound of the voice. The bed was all wrinkled folds like a sand dune. Empty. L was in the bathroom.

"There you are." Light breathed. L was in the bath, his arms around his knees, looking straight ahead to nowhere. He didn't even look up when Light came into the room, not even now that Light approached him. His dark hair was now startlingly black like a brush stroke of ink. It was heavy with the water which dripped in ribbons down his back.

Light managed to pull off his tie and folded it as he took a seat on the edge of the bath. He could feel the chill rising from the water. He dipped his finger into the clear water. "What are you doing?!" Light shouted, jumping up, horrified.

"I'm in the bath," L replied innocently, his voice shaking involuntarily.

"Yes, I can see that, but it's freezing cold. Here," Light said, putting his arms around L, lifting him, and forcing him to stand.

"Light?" came the low tones of Soichiro from outside the door.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Light exhaled. "I'll be out in a minute, Dad," he shouted, while helping L to step out of the bath. The water was dripping on the tiles around and now Light's jacket cuffs were sodden. Light looked at L's downturned face. "I don't believe you!" he whispered, while taking off his jacket, draping it over L's shoulders.

"Where's Ryuzaki?" Soichiro called.

"He'll be out in a minute," Light cooed towards the bathroom door before turning his attention back to the sopping wet and shivering L. "What the are you trying to do to me?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down L's arms, trying to warm the life back into him. He grabbed for a towel which was within reach and started stroking it over L's dripping hair.

"I'm not doing anything, Light," L said beneath the veil the towel had created around his head.

"This is you not doing anything?" Light started steering L over to a large mat below the sink, making him sit down before he fell down. "Stay there," he commanded, grabbing a fistful of towels from the towel rail and wrapping them around L's trembling form. His tone softened as he truly realised the state of L's condition, "Your lips are blue."

"Sorry."

"What were you thinking? Wait, I'll get rid of my father. Just stay right there," Light said. He stood up and pointing forcibly to the spot as if L was a mischievous puppy, before fleeing the room, closing the door behind him. He found Soichiro was standing awkwardly in the bedroom. "Hi, Dad! Anything wrong?" he asked, impossibly cheerful.

"I thought I'd check on Ryuzaki," Soichiro said.

"He's in the bathroom."

"What's he doing?"

"He's in the bath."

Soichiro looked Light up and down with concern. "And you were in there?"

"In the bath?"

"In the room."

"Well, yes. Clearly. I had to, uh, wash my face."

"And you're comfortable with that? Being in the same room as a naked man in the bath?"

"Well, there was a flannel," Light panicked. "It's only like the public baths, Dad."

"Can I speak to him."

"He's in the bath," Light repeated.

"I'll wait."

"Right. Urgh, I'll go and tell him," Light said, in as pleasant a manner as he could muster. He ran back into the bathroom and closed the door again, rushing back to kneel in front of L, who, small mercies, was still sitting on the bath mat. He looked like he was meditating.

"Ryuzaki, please, please get up," Light begged.

"What is it, Light?"

"My dad's outside and he wants to speak to you."

"Oh."

"So? Get up."

"Light?" Sochiro called. He was right outside the door.

"Oh fuckfuckfuck. Ryuzaki, please, if you can pull yourself together and do this one thing for me I'll – "

"Love me forever?"

"Yes, yes, whatever. Just please be L for me?"

"I'll try," L said, allowing Light to help him stand.

"Thank you, thank you! Put this on," he said, stripping the mass of towels and his rag of a jacket from L's damp form and handing him a dressing gown.

"This is yours," L commented inanely. Staring at the dressing gown.

"It's a dressing gown. Yours is the same. Just put it on," Light said, articulating L's arms into the sleeves.

"Is he outside?"

"Yes. God, yes," Light said, tying the belt of the robe.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me or I won't go," L demanded. He was resolute.

"Ryuzaki, not the time. Really not."

"Then I'm afraid that I can't help you."

"Light? Ryuzaki? Are you all right?" Sochiro barked.

"Ryuzaki, my father is outside and he's very, very angry and not used to waiting for a bus, never mind you."

"How is that my concern?" L asked. Light looked into his eyes and knew that this could go on forever. He gave up.

"Fine," Light said, turning back to the door, opening it wide. "There. Dad, Ryuzaki."

Soichiro was standing by the unmade bed. His eyes flew from Light to Ryuzaki who stood wrapped in a over-large dressing gown, in the centre of a rug, with towels and what looked like Light's jacket at his feet. Light marched over to the bed defensively and began making it up roughly, in some vain display of good housekeeping in a brothel.

"Ryuzaki, are you all right?" Soichiro took one step towards L.

"I'm sorry, Yagami-san. Light wouldn't kiss me, so I'm not playing."

"What?" Soichiro boomed.

"Ryuzaki, what?" Light spluttered.

"I'm sorry."

"Ryu …. Dad, ignore him, he's tired still. I found him in a bath of cold water," Light said desperately.

"Light," Soichiro said, turning towards his son.

"Yes, Dad?"

"I want to speak with you."

"He wants to speak with you, Light," L repeated like a drowned parrot from the bathroom.

"Dad – "

"Are you... Is there something you want to say?" Soichiro asked. He looked taller suddenly, or Light was shorter. Oh yes, he was still leaning across the bed. Light pulled himself upright.

"No," he said, fervently

"Is there something you want to say, Light?" L echoed.

"Shut UP, Ryuzaki. No, Dad. There's nothing I have to say. There's nothing going on."

"He's lying, Yagami-san."

"Ryuzaki!" Light shouted as he stormed towards L.

"Are you going to hit me, Light?" L said, completely unmoved with Light's fist held above him about to strike.

"Wh … No. No, of course not," Light said, caught off guard by those dark eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" he whispered. L smiled. Light scowled before spinning back, striding towards his father. "Dad, there's nothing going on. Let's talk outside." Soichiro allowed himself to be led out of the room which, at that moment, ranked as the second ring of Hell. Light closed the door and L's staccato laughter behind it. "Dad, I'm sorry. He's not well. I just didn't want you to have him hospitalised."

"Light, you have to leave the investigation."

"No, listen to me."

"Light, I've seen you fall apart in this building. I've let it happen. Let me try to prevent any more damage."

"What 'damage'?"

"You're leaving the case. You're going home and you're going back to university. That's an end to it."

"Don't take this away from me, Dad."

Soichiro stroked a heavy hand down Light's hair and left him standing there in the hallway. Light stared at where his father had been, long after he had disappeared from view. Eventually, he turned and went back into the bedroom because he didn't know where else to go.

"What happened?' L said from the doorway of the bathroom. Apparently his curiosity could only make him travel a few steps at most.

Light pressed his forehead against the bedroom door after he closed it. "What do you think happened?"

"He's taking you home to mummy."

"You wanted this?" Light said, astounded, turning to face L.

"Part of me does, yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're a murderer," L said, plainly and without emotion.

"Shut up!" Light shouted. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to tear him apart

L childishly held up one hand to hide his smile. "Heee!"

"I'm not a murderer."

"Yes you are. I should know, you murdered me."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not sure if you've noticed this, but you're still alive. _I'm_ the one who has kept you alive. If it was up to you, you'd probably be in the basement being eaten by stray dogs," Light said, and he believed it.

"You know," L replied, more to himself than Light.

"Look, all I know is that you're a basket case but, God help me, I can't let them throw you into a mental hospital. Did you know that? That's what they want to do. They think you're mad."

"Mad as birds," L agreed, dispassionately. Light stared at him from across the room.

"L," he said walking towards him in a few strides and taking him in his arms. L's face was cold against his. He was bloodless. Light pressed his face into damp hair. "Please, come back to me."

"You're keeping me away."

"How?"

"You know."

"Tell me what to do."

"Light can work that much out for himself. Go home with daddy and Ryuzaki will be strapped to a bed in a hospital somewhere in the countryside with thick walls where no one can hear him and -"

"No." Light said. He didn't understand why he was speaking like this. He was speaking like -

"Daddy says so," L mumbled, he pressed his face into Light's shoulder.

"I'm eighteen. I can do what I want." The idea dawned upon Light, a desperate idea. He pulled away to see L's face, cupping it in one hand. "We'll sack him. Yes? We'll sack him. Get a new investigation team. Or we'll work alone. Start again," he said, willing L to agree.

"Oh, Light-kun. Surely you can do better than that?"

"No. No, tell me what to do!" Light told him, desperately pawing at the side of L's head as if trying to find something inside.

"I have to phone someone, Light-kun," L said, blandly.

"What?"

"I have to contact someone or they'll think that I'm dead."

"Why?"

"Watar –" L broke off, taking a breath, "He used to contact them regularly. Otherwise they worry."

"Who worries?"

"What, why, who? It's none of your business. Are we having that meeting later?" L said. Distant memories of conversations were flooding back. His eyes had cleared, they were shining liquid.

"No, we had it," Light explained.

"Oh, I missed it again. Never mind, I'm sure you handled it very well. Sterling work in leading everyone in circles."

"I didn't. Listen to me."

"Light-kun, please let me go. I really have to go and make a phone call before my mind clouds over again. I have a feeling that it'll happen shortly," L said, trying to pull himself out of Light's hold, but Light wouldn't let him.

"You can't. You're not in any state to speak to anyone."

"I suppose that you have hacked all my systems by now. My, you are a piece of work, aren't you? Magnificent really."

"How can you say that?" Light said, brokenly. He felt so defeated. He must look defeated. Whatever conviction he had was seeping into L.

"Because, Light Yagami, I know you who you are. Ha. 'I love my murderer'. How stupid those lines always sounded. So deeply sentimental. And yet here I am understanding every word and being a fool while the world is burning all around us. And it's your fault, Light. I could stop you, but I can't. I wish you'd kill me, if only to stop me empathising with Victorian spinsters from Yorkshire."

Light's eyes turned cruel as he looked at L. His grip on him strengthened. "Stop it."

"Kiss me, you heartless bastard. Stop me," L said. Light's eyes widened, trying to decipher whether it was a challenge, a demand, an accusation, or sarcasm. Maybe it was all of those things. His fingers twisted in L's black hair, he pressed his face into it, feeling it's cool dampness against his skin, breathing in its scent, kissing where the strands emerged from that beautiful skull and its precious cargo. "Stop fucking my hair, Kira," L sighed, irritated. Light moved on the order, not even noticing what L had called him. He transferred his kisses to L's mouth, which remained completely passive. Shocked by the total lack of reaction, he left the cold lips, gliding over the smooth angle of his jaw. He felt L's words breeze against his cheek. "There was a time, not too long ago, when you wouldn't have hesitated. But that was then."

"Shut up, L," Light said, because that, that _was_ a challenge and he would be damned if he'd let that go by. He clawed at L's dressing gown robe, tugging the sides apart like a kimono. He was momentarily distracted by L being so flawless; his taut skin taking on some ethereal ugly beauty which Light had often admired in some distant way in the past, perhaps because he was so unlike him in every way, and yet so like him. Light thought then that he was mad to ever leave him, even for a moment. He should never be out of his arms.

L shook Light back to himself with his words. "Did you think I'd let you win so easily?" L was a grinning skull, and Light should have pushed him away because he didn't know this person. He wasn't L or Ryuzaki. No, no one he'd seen before. But instead he reached around the nape of this man's neck, wrapping himself in the roots of him. Drawing him close like he was life and death and anything with any meaning. He closed his eyes and soon there was nothing but the game and absolutely no love.

* * *

When Light woke, there was no trace of L. No shed dressing gown on the floor. He traced L's steps. There were no signs of the wet footprints he'd left in the bathroom. There was still a tub full of icy water. Light gazed it, and left it there. In the mirror, he looked like he could sleep for a week and still look like shit.

He searched for L on the camera feeds. Nowhere. He felt some overwhelming panic that L had been taken while Light slept in some vengeful act of his father's and he would never find him again. No, he'd travel to Hades to get him back, wouldn't he? And his father would never do that. He could deal with his father.

He threw on as few clothes as was decent and took to searching where he knew the camera couldn't see. He should check on the Death Note, but no, he was sure of one thing, and that was that the Death Note would be safe where it was, burning a hole in the floor. He wanted it in his hands.

The office was empty. Everyone had long left. Perhaps his father had trundled home with a drawn face and wondering whether he'd ever get any grandchildren from Light.

You should have known that I'd only ever let you down.

Light walked into Watari's suite and, tiny as it was, at first he didn't see L sitting in the armchair. He was wrapped in Light's dressing gown, but a flash of stonewashed denim weave grazing L's foot showed that he'd made some effort to dress himself. So L sat in Watari's chair, thoughtfully nipping the side of his thumb with lupine teeth. A phone in one hand, Watari's suit laid across his lap, and a child's scarf loosely looped around his neck like a noose.

"I wondered where you were," Light said from the doorway.

"You've been here before," L countered.

"Yes, just after. Matsuda was looking for tea." Light tried to make a joke of it.

"Ah. After," L repeated, because 'after' was the word. 'After' was the turning point and everything which had passed was defined by either being before or after that moment when he had failed and died with Watari on the floor of some innocuous building in Tokyo. No, worse than failing, he'd given his consent.

"Are you ok?" Light asked, nervously.

"Ok?" L thought the word over and bit down hard upon his thumb.

"I'll make you something," Light said, making towards Watari's meagre kitchen.

"No. Thank you."

"When's the last time you ate something?" Light asked, stopping in his tracks.

"You should know better than I would. I seem to forget a lot of things."

"Do you have a headache?" Light was determined to pull L out of this. He would kill him with kindness.

"Hmmm..." L mumbled, as if just realising that his head felt like a warzone.

"So, you're dehydrated and you need to eat something. You're all bones."

"Heh."

"Come on," Light put a tender hand on L's arm.

"The paper," L said, suddenly. "The paper that Amane-san had. Where is it?"

"It's in the safe," Light replied. L's silence was excruciating. "Do you want to see it?" he asked, accusingly.

"No, I believe that it's in the safe."

You don't believe _me_. You believe that it's in the safe, Light thought."Do you want to make sure?" he said, his eyes narrowing.

"What reason would there be for it not to be there?" L threw the question up to the ether.

"I want you to come back with me. It's cold in here."

"It's cold everywhere. Haven't you noticed?" L remarked.

Light approached L and knelt in front of him. "I'm going to tell you something. You won't believe me, but I want you to know. I love you. Do you believe me? Do you believe that?"

"I suppose that you must do," L agreed, emotionlessly.

"I want you to believe it. It's important," Light said, more forcefully. It suddenly seemed the most important thing that L believe him because Light was a selfish bastard now. He wanted L to know for his own sake, not L's. Now, in the room of a man, a good man that he'd killed. No, Misa had killed him. No, Kira had killed him for justice. No, he'd killed him for L. "More than anything," he added. He didn't know how to truly communicate what he felt for him, and how confused it was, all wrapped up with hatred.

L stretched out lazily. "Really? As much as all that?"

"Yes."

"Oh, aren't I the lucky one? What a catch."

"We're leaving," Light said, standing up again. He didn't like this room. More than anywhere else, here he felt like eyes were watching and disapproving. "I like your scarf, by the way."

"Oh, this?"

"So it _is_ yours?"

"It was," L affirmed, extracting himself from the chair and robotically replacing the pieces back in their positions in the room; putting the phone back into its cradle, laying the suit back upon the chair, smoothing it out with a tenderness he'd never shown to Light. Lastly, he pulled the scarf from his neck and inspected it. There was a tiny piece of handsewn patchwork which covered one spot where the wool had worn too thin. He threw it at Light who caught it with one hand.

L called back as he stalked out of the room. "I want it burned."

* * *

**A/N**

**Notes:**

"Crow-black sea" is from the opening of _Under Milk Wood _by Dylan Thomas. I think the line is something like, "sloe-black, slow, crow-black fishing boat-bobbing sea". Also, "Mad as birds" is from "Love in the Asylum", which is also by Dylan Thomas.

More Greek Mythology/Ovid's _Metamorphoses_ quotes. This time it's Pygmalion and Galatea which I tweaked a bit. Sorry, Ovid, it just wasn't gay enough.

I have no idea if Light was in the 'Tea Club' at school but I see absolutely no reason why he shouldn't have been. He's a very cultured boy and making tea is a useful skill to have, completely inkeeping with being a sociopath.

Ode to Kate Bush. Amazing, totally scary biscuits song, "Waking the Witch", has been ransacked and stuffed into the section when L's dreaming. Hell yeah a DN fanfic needs weird stuff and Latin which makes no sense. I can't remember if I threw some Latin in there as well actually, and I'm too lazy to look. Sorry.

Cheap _Wuthering Heights_ reference because why not? L's using a mashed up Heathcliff quote somewhere up there.


	15. Vengeance is Sleeping

**A/N: **Chunks of italics = song lyrics/flashbacky type things.

* * *

**Chapter 15. Vengeance is Sleeping**

_All I had was my invention_

_And my love invented all of you_

_Oh look what thoughts can do_

_What thoughts can do_

_My love has never lived indoors_

_I had to drag it home by force_

_Hired hounds at both my wrists_

_Damp and bruised by strangers' kisses on my lips_

_- Neko Case._

* * *

The first thing Light did, the very morning after the murders in November when he woke up in his childhood bed and was without L, was to kill.

Over the months, the various twenty-four hour news channels were spread across all fifteen of L's TV screens which hung over his desk. One of the stories covered was about a nursery school assistant called Susumu Takase, who had abused children for months, filmed it, and sold the footage. It had caught the attention of all within the task force, judging by their sighs, but their deafening silence made Light wonder if they were thinking the same thing as he was – this would not have happened if Kira was still around. Had Kira not seemingly disappeared, despicable creatures would not dare to darken lives. As the court case went on and the depressing, horrifying details were released, Light would look at L and think, look what you've done. You're responsible for this.

Light had promised himself that as soon as he got the Death Note, he would kill him. Kill him. It would be his pat on the back. He could have done it before then; he could have put the scrap of paper from his watch to better use, but no, he had to have something to look forward to. L was desperate for proof and didn't realise that Light had given it to him. Maybe he'd never realise it. Maybe he'd never know what it meant. Now that Light had relative freedom back and L was sleeping, after dressing in a white shirt and jeans as a tribute, he wrote Susumu Takase's name down. He could feel a rush of righteousness with the last stroke of the pen. How fair a jurist he was once the forty seconds passed with a slice of a hand on a clock. And he needed that, he needed to be reassured. It was like he'd cleaned a dirty window with the back of his hand. He pulled a barely grey sweater over his white shirt and returned to the HQ. Later that evening, reports came through that the accused died in custody, and with it, murmurings that it was Kira's work.

"It seems like a good thing, doesn't it, Light?" L asked him.

"I thought you would have wanted the trial to have run its course," Light replied.

"But he wouldn't have received the death penalty if he had."

"You're starting to sound like Kira."

"It doesn't matter to me if he had lived, the same as I don't care that he's dead. If that makes me sound like Kira then so be it. What interests me is that you compare me to Kira as if you know him. Is that how he sounds?"

"I wouldn't know. You just surprise me, that's all." He made a show by sighing loudly.

Light slept easily that night. For a while.

He woke and he didn't know why. L was sleeping. Light sat on the edge of the bed with his hands hanging limply over his knees, glancing over at the body on the bed. 'I have to do this. I'm sorry, but not really,' he apologised, silently.

Light couldn't see that murderous L again who knew everything while standing next to Watari's corpse. L had seen it so clearly, as if he'd been watching the whole thing from the sidelines, or that Watari had told him. The doctor refused to sedate L anymore without him being admitted to hospital, and that was very close to happening. Light couldn't let that happen. But he couldn't bear to see the hatred in L's eyes again, something which disappeared with chemicals. Light needed more time.

So he had gone to Watari's room and rooted through the vials and capsules. He read the small print, selected something appropriate, something worthy, and transferred the powder into innocent codeine capsules. L was coming around. He was hazy and neither his body or his mind could quite get a grip on anything. Thoughts flew like a murmuration of starlings. He smiled at Light when he saw him. Light made him some tea. And continued making him tea. Sometimes it wasn't what it seemed.

Light had placed L into dulled limbo, some stasis for his own good while Light relished his regained freedom. Using L's own trick, he'd discovered that the news broadcast of the gala deaths was only shown within the Kanto region of Japan up to the point when Misa was killed. Therefore, the likelihood was that Astraea were based in Tokyo itself.  
To find them was simple. He'd just do what came naturally to him, it was easy enough to do while L was dipping in and out of a light coma. In fact, he had, on three occasions, used a piece of the Death Note in the same room as L; while he was sleeping or sitting, dull beside Light, or making low mutterings about his hair and other nonsense. Light felt like all his favourite things had come together.

With Astraea, Light's tactics were fairly blatant. When Astraea made an announcement, blackmailing people in power, naming individuals – Light would write those names in his Death Note first. To the world, it simply looked like Astraea were impatient. But Astraea would know. They would know that Kira was free.

Light kept a piece of paper amid the stack of his personal files which no one touched, mostly because they didn't understand it. So, on top of toying with Astraea, Light had plenty of opportunities to restart his own work as Kira. The depleted task force and Light investigated his own murders and got absolutely nowhere. And yes, he was also sending smoke signals to Astraea. They replied, he thought, through more broadcasts and more names which dared him, begged him, to show himself. The little love letters they sent to each other. I'm here. Find me. It was all going so well.

Then Soichiro demanded that Light leave the investigation after the rather embarrassing confrontation. He brought it up again the following day. L refused point blank because Light was too vital. He made no mention of Kira, of course, that wouldn't help his case. None of them acknowledged the real issue. They skirted around discussing it directly quite skillfully. L and Soichiro became two fighting stags, only one of them sat passively in his chair or in his bed while the other became more frustrated and angry, tearing up the earth. Light tried to pacify his father. He was waiting for something. Then it came.

"Astraea have sent us a Christmas card, Light," L said as Light entered the office. Between L's fingertips, he held up a tarot card which had been sent in a snugly fitting envelope. This was the sign. Light stared at it.

"It's clean?" he asked, not really expecting another repeat of a few months ago.

"It was clean," L replied as Light took the card from his hand. The elongated shape and the familiar image of Justice with her sword and scales. Adjustment. "Why do you think that they would send us that, Light?" L asked.

"I have no idea." Yes he did. It was their calling card. Found you.

At that point, before his father had another heart attack or L sacked him, Light volunteered to leave the investigation, well, the HQ.

"In a perfect world, Dad. What would make you happy?" Light had asked, calmly interrupting the rather one-sided argument between his father and L. L was just a world of no.

Soichiro look dumfounded. I want my son back. Instead he replied, "I would like you to leave the investigation."

"Well, it's not a perfect world, Dad. I'm not leaving the investigation." L smiled at Light's words and spun back to face the his blank computer screen. "But I'll leave for a week," Light said. L spun back around, his eyes wide. "One week. I'll go home for one week. Would that make you happy?"

"Yes," Soichiro replied. It would for now.

* * *

"Stop pouting."

"You don't have to do this. I don't know why you're doing this," L said. He really didn't understand it. He was horrifically conflicted.

"We don't have a choice," Light replied with a shrug. "If we don't make some gesture to show that we respect him then either he's going to burst a blood vessel or he'll castrate you. We don't have many options."

"We could sack him."

"You don't want to do that. It's stupid."

"It was your suggestion originally."

"I wasn't thinking straight when I said that. You were as mad as a box of frogs and my father was more or less confronted with the twisted reality of our shenanigans."

"Our shenanigans?"

"Yes. Shenanigans. L, he just wants some sign that we actually care about what he thinks, says, whatever."

"But we don't, Light."

"You don't. I do. He just wants to know that he's still Papa Bear, his word is law, and that I, that we, respect him. It's basic psychology. Understand?"

"No. I never had a Papa Bear."

"Oh."

"I can't believe that you're leaving me. Voluntarily. Look, you're packing a suitcase and everything. This shouldn't be happening."

"Hold up, Bette Davis. Enough with the dramatic orphan act. I'm not leaving you, I'm just going to visit my family for a few days."

"It's not a few days, it's a week."

"Yes. Seven days."

"A 'few' suggests three days."

"Three, seven... Don't be pedantic."

"However many days, I don't approve. L does not approve," he said, firmly, as if that was enough to knock this whole sorry business on the head. Light was surprised that L didn't stamp his foot.

"Pass my apologies onto L."

"Can't your family stay here? It's palatial. There are floors upstairs I didn't know we had. It's like a hotel, this place. I don't know what I was thinking when I okayed the plans." No, Light wasn't sure either. A 70 storey skyscraper and there were only five people inside at any one time.

"I think that you're missing the point," he said.

"Or I could stay with you."

"No. That would be hellish. Besides, it would defeat the object. Dad wants me to leave. The building. The case. You."

L looked like he'd been punched in the face. "I'm sorry, Light. I'm going to have to sack your father," he said, simply.

"You are not."

"I'm L. You're my suspect. You're staying."

"L, if you start that again then I _will_ leave you. You will not see me for dust," Light stated, walking to the wardrobe and pulling out another small suitcase. L grew suspicious at the action.

"There aren't any ulterior motives for you to want to leave, are there?" he asked.

"Like what?" Light said, unzipping the case.

"To meet with someone. Or to get away from me."

"You idiot. No. Who would I meet with anyway? Everyone probably thinks that I'm dead. Not that my social life was anything to write home about before, but you've killed it stone dead with your turret... Oh." Light said, realising the innuendo a little too late.

"Light, I think that it'll be a bad thing if you go."

"No, it won't. I'll just be spending some time with the family and be a devoted son for a few days, marvelling at the inner workings of the world outside this building."

"Stop saying that. It's not a few, it's seven. 160 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds -"

"Ok, stop it. It's one week. If it helps I'll come back this time next week, so it's not even that."

"What! You're leaving tomorrow?"

Light gestured at the open suitcase. Obviously. Maybe L didn't understand the concept of suitcases and what the packing of one represented. "Why put it off?" he said, bluntly.

"Because the whole thing might just go away. Yagami-san might forget."

"That's not going to happen L."

"I don't understand the logic. How is staying away for a week going to make you less gay? Oh God, they'll probably marry you off to one of the Hilton's."

"I don't think that's likely, and that's not what it's about really. It's a combination of things."

"I have more money than them if that changes things? Tell your father that."

"L. I'm going for one week. It'll calm him down, now _you_ have to calm down."

"Cup of tea?" L said, sadly, hoping that Light would instead suggest a bracing walk on the roof.

"Cup of tea," Light agreed, firmly. L watched as Light walked away. His reactions were delayed but eventually he followed him into the kitchen. Light looked up. "It'll be ok," he assured L warmly as he poured the water. L was silent. "L, dear heart. Love of my _life,_" Light said with a laugh, "I am not going to leave you. It'll be ok."

"No, I don't think that it will be," L replied, sullenly, watching Light stir a sugar whirlpool in the tea.

"You don't believe me?"

"No." Well, at least he was honest.

* * *

Light had retrieved the Death Note and hid it between the fabric layers in his suitcase. As he packed some more of his things while L sat cross-legged on the bed in front of him. He thought how funny it was to think that another example of L's much-desired, desperately fought for proof, was less than a metre in front of him. But then he'd always enjoyed these private jokes. L had desperately clung to him the night before Light was due to go home, even as he slept. Light was still too fearful to allow L to regain full use of his faculties so he kept slipping medication in his tea, only this time he thought he'd got the balance more or less right, making him just a blunt knife. Sometimes he regretted it. L seemed so far away that he wondered whether that great mind was still there at all underneath the fog. How he loved to see it shine briefly, the look of realisation appear on L's face before misting over again with forgetfulness and not caring. He'd handed Light the reins of control because he didn't know what else to do. Light knew that L didn't care about the case. Nowhere near as much as he cared about him anyway. And that was perfect.

He prepared for his little L holiday by slipping some of the powdered chemicals into L's morning tea itself and, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, ready-made, doped-up L, and he can dose himself! If there was one thing that Light could rely on it was that L always had to have a cup of tea at 6am, no matter what was happening. Light had set up a new regime for L; different blends of tea for different times of the day. L probably didn't notice the difference, but he seemed to take to Light's thoughtfulness and follow it like a trained monkey. Light began testing him. If L woke him up, begging him to make a brew, Light would refuse, pleading tiredness and how he wasn't L's slave, etc. He waited patiently and listened as L forced his snapping joints to ferry him, stumbling, to the kitchen and somehow make himself a cup of tea. Quite a feat, considering. 6am was a low point in L's day and the tea soothed as the sugar trickled quickly into his bloodstream. Light's experiments had paid off and now he could keep L just how he wanted him, even though he wouldn't be there to enjoy it. At least there was some certainty that L couldn't do _that_ much while he was away.

Light only had a week to gain contact with Astraea. The question was, how to do it? He had to hope that they were staking out the building. They'd see him leave, and they'd follow him. Light allowed himself scans of the streets outside trying to see if any car or person looked likely, but everything just looked like an ant farm. Light was optimistic the morning left, but he tried not to look too happy about it. L was a squashed moth. Light left him sleeping with the bruises of kisses on his lips. When he arrived home with his father, he noticed the black car parked across the street. It was a no-parking area so, while he wouldn't have thought about it twice in the past, now he was immediately suspicious. It looked like an L-mobile. It was like one of the cars he'd seen Watari pick L up in when they were at To-Oh. Light tried to reason with himself that it could very easily be someone visiting a neighbour. In fact, it could just as easily be a neighbour's car.

Later that night, he noticed from his bedroom window that it was still there. An interior light illuminated the dashboard suggesting that someone was sitting in the driver's seat. He'd more or less convinced himself that it was Wedy or another of L's dwindling collection of spy puppets keeping an eye on him on his majesty's orders. He decided to investigate. He walked down the stairs and outside, but as the front door clicked shut behind him, the car had gone.

Days passed. Nothing. No sign of Astraea. Light started considering his options since Astraea appeared to be quite useless. What did they want, a neon sign over his house which read 'Kira lives here'? It seemed increasingly likely that he'd have to find them himself by, for all intents and purposes, working with L. A little girl's voice hooked in his mind, replaying like a tape, _"Yes, Light, but about Astraea -"_

And then, they contacted him.

Light was shopping with Sayu and his mother and was thoroughly bored. He sat waiting at the line of chairs by the exit of the shop which were provided for bored men such as himself who'd been dragged along as part as some Jason and the Argonauts-esque trial. He sat watching his mother and sister perform some sort of rain dance around the jewellery counter. A boy sat alongside him.

"'Ello, luv."

Light could hardly make the boy out for the orange goggles which covered most of his face. He looked at him like he was observing a uninspiring-looking insect in a tank. "Pardon?" Light replied.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't you," the boy said. He was shorter than Light, more delicately built, like a scene kid. Auburn haired, a slightly celtic affair. And he was speaking to Light in English. Oh, the presumption. Light rolled his eyes.

"Could you get out of my face please?"

"Don't you want to hear my chat-up lines?"

"No." Oh God. Did he have a 'Hello, I'm Light. Ask me about gayness!' badge on his jacket? Was he doomed to be propositioned in shopping malls for the rest of his life now? Was there a whole other language and etiquette which he didn't know about?

"Where have you been all my life? Etc.," the boy continued unabashed. He looked like he found the whole thing too amusing.

"Trying to avoid you," Light replied.

"Ha. Anyway, Ducky. I've got a message for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmmm..."

"What kind of message? Would it include a 12 pack of lager, a bottle of cider, and a Barry White compilation? Because if it does then I think I'm fine right here, thank you all the same. How old are you anyway?"

"Old enough."

"Well, sorry, but you've got to be _this_ tall to get on _this_ ride." He couldn't quite believe he'd just said that.

"That's rude. And I don't need to bother with the lager. People tend to just fall into my bed without it. You're socially a bit awkward, y'know?"

"No, I don't know. You're a bit of a moron, y'know? Now go away.

"Geez, Louise, you're testy. I said that I have a message."

"Can I suggest that you stick it up your -"

Light's words broke off abruptly as the boy arrogantly flicked a tarot card between his fingers and twisted it so Light could see the illustration of the blindfolded woman. Once satisfied by Light's shocked, goldfish-gaping mouth, the boy secreted the card back in his pocket and took to tapping a cigarette on the back of his hand and balancing it behind his ear.

Light _was_ shocked, ecstatic, jubilant... and very angry. You're kidding, he thought. This is a historic meeting. This is the first contact between Kira and Astraea and it will be in history books. There should be stirring music. There should be samurai swords. They should be in a snow-covered ornamental garden. They should at least both be wearing black. Instead, Astraea had sent a scruffy looking, malnourished youth with the sole flapping on his converse trainers.

The red haired boy tapped Light playfully on the shoulder. "Tag. You're it. 2pm, tomorrow. The bus stop near the east gate of Shinjuku station. Kay?" he said, cheerfully, before leaving.

* * *

When Light returned home from the shopping centre, he noticed the black car parked across the road from his house again. Oh, L.

He sulkily walked back inside and contemplated his revenge. If he wasn't going to a very important meeting, he might have been tempted to loiter outside the HQ for a bit. See how _he_ liked it. Bastard.

So he was surprised when he stood at the bus stop. He was waiting, getting irritated, watching the mass of people passing him by, when that same black car sidled up beside him. Light stared at the blackened windows for a few moments and it seemed like stale mate. Then the window slid down halfway with the easiness which comes with things that are expensive. Light walked up to the car.

"Light Yagami."

Light didn't answer. It was dark inside the car and couldn't make out the occupants well, they seemed to be wearing shrouds of some kind. That filled him with confidence. He couldn't see much apart from the dim pastel glow of a shinigami's face. Bright, yellowed teeth and eyes.

"Would Kira like to meet Astraea?" a woman's voice asked.

Ryuk started laughing.

* * *

"Sounds like a regular Death Note tea party. So you forced Misa to hand over her Death Note to you in return for... trying to kill me?"

"That was not our intention, Kira. Misa Amane desired that Kira's memories be restored to him which, as a result of our actions, has come to pass. The poisoned letter was a planned attack against L and intended as a warning as well to focus his attentions upon Astraea instead of Kira. Obviously, we did not expect Kira to be opening L's mail," a shrouded figure replied, caustically.

"But you do realise that you poisoned me? Me. It doesn't really inspire me to join forces with you."

"We apologise, Kira-sama. Please forgive us. We did not expect for you to be placed in such a position," another figure said.

"And Hashimoto was a setup?"

"Hashimoto was an executive member of the Astraea committee."

"He was also a Yakuza boss," Light stated, sarcastically.

"He contributed large sums to Astraea in the early stages of the uprising which enabled us to begin reconstruction."

"Hmmm..."

"To restore Kira, Hashimoto seemed to be the appropriate figurehead to use since his reputation as a Yakuza boss was already known by L."

"So you sacrificed Hashimoto, set the building on fire, and stole the Death Note?"

"Hashimoto was given temporary ownership of the Death Note. He was a greedy man. He saw only possibilities of power in his associations with Astraea. He was no sacrifice for us."

"You killed him."

"He was simply given an alternative account of the plan. His job was to make sure that you touched the Death Note. He believed that at that point, back-up would arrive, kill L and his team, leaving Kira free."

"But that wasn't what happened."

"No. In truth, it was never our intention to kill L. Hashimoto was disposable. He was given a defective gun so that he could not defend himself if he tried. Unfortunately, he did seem to secrete a loaded gun of his own, but in any case, he followed the plan as he was told. It was not enough that you touch the Death Note. To keep your memories you had to become the owner. Therefore, since you were, as planned, holding the Death Note as Hashimoto was killed, ownership transferred to you."

"But why didn't you kill... Why didn't you kill the task force?"

"It was unnecessary. We agreed only to assist in Kira recovering his memories. We were not assured at that point what your feelings towards our organisation would be. Obviously we could not leave you with the Death Note. It is the property of Astraea, regardless of your ownership. We could not afford for it to fall into the wrong hands."

"There's no other reason?"

"Do you suspect that our motives are compromised, Kira?"

Heaven forbid. Light knew all about internal, emotionally driven disputes, forcing him to take meandering routes as Kira. People were suffering for it. People were getting away with murder because he was avoiding taking the easiest option. Although why Astraea had fluffy feelings and would want to avoid killing L and the task force was beyond him. "Well, I suppose I owe you some degree of thanks, despite the unfortunate letter fiasco," he said.

"Please forgive us, Kira-sama!" another person at the table cried.

Light waved the desperate begging away with a disinterested swipe of his hand. "Yes, yes, mistake, mistake. Anyway, I must say that I'm intrigued by your ideas even though your MGM cinemascope 'sex and sandals' epic broadcasts tried my patience a little. So contrived. So overwrought. There is no need to use the word 'thee' in a sentence nowadays. I can forgive that, but your actions are a little conflicted."

"Our aims are clear, Kira-sama. Astraea is the culmination of the entire existence of humankind being oppressed by the self-appointed few. We aim to rid the world of evil," said a person at the far left.

"Don't you think it's a bit hypocritical? You say that you're opposed to the 'self-appointed few', but aren't you just that?"

"We are a democracy working in the world's best interest," said a figure seated towards the centre of the table. Light appeared unconvinced. "Do you not agree?" the voice asked.

"Personally, I would have done things differently. A truly divine new world needs no democracy. Also, the psuedo-biblical air about your broadcasts which is most off-putting and, as I've said, is perhaps a tad forced. Formulaic even."

"Is that so?" they replied.

Light nodded with a gracious smile. "Our time together is limited so..." he said.

Another person at the table began to speak. "Of course. Well, Kira-sama. We will -"

"You are the Death Note owner," Light said, suddenly, pointing to the figure towards the centre who had questioned him. Everyone was silent. Light dropped his accusatory finger and relaxed back into his chair. "That's all I needed to know."

* * *

Light had returned to HQ on the Monday morning, much to the chagrin of his father. It had been a difficult drive back. Soichiro obviously hoped that Light, having experienced the joys that the outside world had to offer, would loathe to come back and closet himself up in HQ again. His whole family had become an army, even drafting in far-flung cousins and aunties in trying to convince him to stay with them. To go back to university. To have a 'life'. Light didn't want any of those things. Sayu and his parents employed tears, tantrums, bribes – any emotional tactic they could think of and that were just slightly less devastating than a molotov cocktail.

Monday morning came and Light had his case packed and a box full of things from his room he wanted to take with him. He stood impatiently in the hallway with his coat on and watched another splinter of his father's heart shear off.

Everyone was in the office. Matsuda had brought some bizarre, brightly coloured bottle of fizz, for some reason. Light made a bee-line straight for L, who had actually troubled himself to stand up from his chair in celebration of the event.

"How's your shoulder?" Light asked.

"Pain is relative," L replied, and Light smiled for the first time that week.

Forty minutes later, the two sat next to each other in silence as the team assembled around Aizawa. He read through key points which their investigation had yielded over the past week. "So Astraea has been keeping a fairly low profile since the last of the parliamentary murders. There are concerns that what looks like vast army bases has been built along the coast of countries which have been taken over." Aizawa paused to turn the page of his notes.

"I tried to phone you," Light whispered to L as he pretended to pick up a dropped pen.

"I was probably sleeping," L replied, moodily.

"Ryuzaki? Did you say something," Aizawa asked.

"I said that I was probably sleeping, Aizawa-san. Please continue."

" … Well, I suppose that that brings us up to date. Sorry to have kept you," Aizawa finished, slightly peevishly.

"Any questions?" L asked the table.

"Let's get out of here," Light whispered.

"At least make an attempt of being interested, Light."

Something had changed, but Light was so ridiculously happy to see him that he didn't want to think about it. He made his excuses and declared his intention to unpack. Soichiro stood up abruptly and started clearing up his papers.

"Will you need some help with unpacking?" L asked.

"I might do."

"I'm good with packing, Light!" Matsuda said, happily.

"Yes, but Light is _un_packing, Matsuda-san, and I don't think that you'll be required, thank you very much," L said, bluntly.

"Oh. Right. Of course. I didn't mean – "

"I thought that we'd agreed that you'd be moving out of HQ, Light?" Soichiro interrupted.

"It's too inconvenient, Dad. I hate travelling and with the late hours and early starts, it just doesn't make sense."

"Yes, Yagami-san. Light is often working well before and after the rest of the task force leave," L agreed.

"Uh, yes. So, erm. I'll be unpacking my things," Light said, awkwardly, with a fake cheerfulness.

L followed ten minutes later. Light was surprised and a bit miffed that he had to wait so long.

* * *

"What's your father thinking?" L said once his lungs had stopped screaming for oxygen. "Keeping us apart from seven days. Doesn't he know that we're Romeo and Julian and this is our very own tragedy?"

"Romeo and Julian? Aren't they fashion designers? We're more like Romeo and Mercutio. They had a rather intense relationship."

"Either way, everyone dies. Poor Yagami-san. He's been avoiding me. I think he might like to flambé me for corrupting his firstborn. He knows. It's obviously been a concern of his for for some time but I think he's pretty much convinced now. He can't look away anymore or make any other excuses. Light, don't you care?"

"I cannot emphasise how much I don't care."

"A perfect example of a dutiful son."

"I can't get upset about anyone at the moment. Right now, the world is a rosy place. Lots of petals falling and lambs frolicking and you're talking too much," Light said, grabbing L's limb wrist and placing it on his thigh and pressing a barely-there kiss to his salty chest.

"What does upset you?" L said, thoughtfully.

"This little 'holiday' we've been on. Didn't like that. No sense out of anyone. Anyone. I love them but, bloody hell."

"Light, you said, 'bloody hell'."

"It's all your fault when I start talking like that."

"Tell me about your week."

"I walked around the city and it seemed like I'd fallen into the Wonderland or something. Did you know that there is an actual world out there? I forgot."

"That's what happens when you live in a poofy turret."

"Hmmm.. And there was daylight. That was nice. Cloudy though."

"Was it? I can't say that I noticed. So the skies themselves were saddened that we were parted. Yagami-san has angered the gods."

"What else?" Light pondered aloud. "I went shopping with my mother and she told me all about how our next-door neighbour said that she was attacked by a shark in Tenerife. Everyone brought her presents and made her food and then it turned out that it wasn't a shark after all, it was somebody's poodle, so now no one will speak to her and she's moving house. Errr... a girl I went to university with ran up to me, crying, and told me that everyone thought that I was dead. That was nice too. I hoovered my room and I missed you so much I thought that I would die. Oh, and you'll like this, Sayu heard me say your name when I was in the bathroom… ahem...and then she went downstairs and told my parents while they were eating dinner."

"Were you defecating?"

"Ha, no."

"Were you stimulating yourself using thoughts of me as a psychological trigger?"

"That's a rather complicated way of saying it but, yeah. I wasn't singing a song from _West Side Story_. I was dealing with a problem."

"Saying, 'Ryuzaki'?"

"No. You're always L to me."

"Ah. I don't think that anyone has ever masturbated about me before. Not that they'd tell me. So, your sister told your parents that you were wanking fiercely in the bathroom. What did your parents do?"

"Come on, she didn't know what I was doing. I think she thought that I was having a seizure. Heh, Mum said that I must be practising my English and Dad apparently dropped his plate. I was mortified. I could hardly face them."

"Poor Yagami-san."

"I'm such a disappointment," Light said, sadly. L stroked Light's hair but didn't contradict him. "Did you miss me?" Light whispered into L's chest.

"I can't breathe, Light," L said, with difficulty since Light was lying on top of him like a lead weight.

"No, I couldn't either. That's what you've done to me. We're apart for a week and I couldn't breathe because of it. Everything was so... I want to say 'hard' but it seems like a bad word choice."

"No, really, Light. I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry," Light said, rolling off L's chest and onto one side, "So, did you? Miss me?"

"Did you miss _me_?" L countered.

"Of course I did. I said that I did. I said that I couldn't breathe. Like in the lyrics of an 80s rock ballad."

"Well, I missed you too."

"I've never been so bored in all my life," Light admitted.

"I've never been so miserable in all of mine."

"Sorry about that."

L kissed Light's forehead and the tendrils of damp hair which were sticking to it. "It's OK, you're back now. But then, maybe that's the problem," he said thoughtfully.

"Don't start. I'm comfortably numb and I want to stay that way for a while," Light stated, further entangling his legs with L's.

"Shall I just stop talking then?"

"It's an idea."

"But I haven't talked all week."

"That's not my fault. I didn't ask you to take a vow of silence. You could have spoken to anyone,"

"I've spoken, I just haven't talked," L replied. His voice was soft and faraway. Sombre while Light was vibrant.

"Now it all makes sense. So what did you do this week. Spare me the detective stuff until another time though."

"Oh, I had a most enlightening week," L said dreamily.

"Really?" He couldn't really take that seriously.

"Yes. And I visited Watari's grave while you were away."

"L!" Light said with a start. Pulling himself above L in horror. Obviously his drugged tea plan hadn't gone quite the way he had hoped. Maybe he'd underestimated him.

"What?" L said, his eyes hooded.

"That was very dangerous and stupid and dangerous and –"

"Yes, cemeteries are very dangerous places. Dens of iniquity. However, I left unscathed. I had to go."

"And?" Light said relaxing. L seemed fairly blasé about it so why shouldn't he be the same.

"And it's not the right place. He has a plot somewhere else, I believe. No, I know that he does. Did. He showed it to me once. His wishes should be observed. I can do that much for him at least."

"It was too soon, L. You shouldn't have gone."

"I'm - No. I'm glad that I went so that he knows. Maybe. I just felt... being there. Me and my stupid mishmash of bones and shoes with the laces undone. I really can't grasp the whole tying laces thing. How does that work? Watari always tied them for me and I didn't want to learn how to do something so idiotically basic. It just takes up head space. Maybe I should have worn a suit?"

"Not stupid bones. Lovely bones," Light said drawing them closer to his own. "I'd like to see you in a suit though. I can't picture it. Ha! It might be a sign of the apocalypse, you in a suit. If you want, we could go back together. We'll get you some shoes. My GOD, have I wanted to buy you some shoes. If you don't want to though, you could borrow some of my things. I have a suit that'll -"

"No. I don't think I could go there again, not with..." L said, angrily before interrupting and catching himself. "I kept thinking how strange it was. Not just the fact that he was dead and underground, but that I feel like this. Someone said to me years ago how we should be used to loss. People. But I don't think that I ever really felt it in the first place until now. She gave me too much merit. And now that I feel it, and not just for Watari, I don't think you _ever_ can be used to it. Clearly, I'm not. It was strange to think that he was six feet below me in the suit that he died in, I presume. Not even a stone, just this marker, a 'someone's here' kind of thing, and that's it. No one would have any idea of what that man was. What a lonely, stupid thing that grave is. You should have seen it but...no. Why should people be planted like trees? It just didn't make sense, and then somehow, I wasn't expecting it to, but somehow things fell into place."

"What things?"

"Things that I haven't, for one reason or another, been able to think about."

"Things that have been bobbing around in your brain," Light said, sleepily listening to the sea-like flow of L's words and having trouble taking their meaning in. He had the feeling that he should be concerned.

"Yes."

"I _love_ your brain." Light said leaning over and kissing L's forehead and his closed his eyes. Then began taking all the frustration of the last week out upon L's earlobe while L just lay there like mortal remains.

"You're such a child, Light. Do you love anything else?" L asked.

"Oh GOD yes," Light said, breaking off just long enough to rush the words out.

"I don't think so."

Light threw himself back moodily. "Ok. What?"

"What?"

"You're not appreciating my very best attempts to woo you."

"You've wooed me already," L exhaled, stretching.

"I want to woo you some more."

"Good luck with that."

"Point is, I'm trying to woo you or whatever, and you're having some deep and meaningful conversations to which I'm not invited."

"You're invited."

"No, I don't want to be invited. I don't want to hear your deep and meaningful conversations. I want pleased noises from your mouth in my mouth," Light said, brusquely.

"That sounds vile."

"Yes, I suppose it does, but, not sure if you've realised it, but this is a vile business. _This_," Light motioned at their extreme nakedness and general dampness. "And it's kinda why I like it."

"Oh, well, go ahead. Woo me, if that's what you call it. My heart is all aflutter."

"Ah, no. I'm sorry. I'm being a shit," Light realised.

"Yes, you are. But I'm used to it."

"Was it bad, going there? To Watari's grave?"

"It was. I went by your house afterwards."

"You did? You should have called in."

"I did."

"You did?"

"Hmmm... Matsuda-san took me. He drove me. Matsuda-san is madly in love with your sister. Do you know that?"

"Yes."

"We could have him arrested."

"We can't have him arrested for being in love with her," Light noted with some sadness.

"Yes, you're right. That's a shame. I thought that we'd found a loophole in his contract there. Anyway, he practically fell over himself when she opened the door in a little dress. I'll feel sorry for your father if your sister ends up reciprocating Matsuda-san's feelings. Yagami-san will end up with two extremely unworthy sons-in-law."

"Oh, so you think this is a long term thing, do you? 'Son-in-law' sounds rather permanent."

"Nothing is ever long term."

Light ignored this and tried to steer L back to more upbeat conversation. "So, you dropped by? I'm sorry that I missed you. What day was this?"

"Thursday."

"Ah, I was bad by Thursday. It's a good job I wasn't there otherwise I probably would have done something awful, felonious, and naked to you against the banisters. My family would not have been impressed," Light said, reappraising L's bottom lip.

"I would have been," L muttered.

"Mmmm..." Light answered kissing the corners of his mouth.

"And Matsuda-san too, probably."

"Mmmmm..."

"Bless Matsuda-san."

"Nmmmmm..."

"Light."

"Hmmmm?"

"I know what you're doing to me," L said. His tone had changed.

Light drew back. "What do you mean?"

"You're drugging me. I'm 92% sure that if I searched the kitchen, I would find something. If I sent a sample of the tea you left to be tested, I would find something. If I inspected Watari's medical bag, I think that I would find that some medications are missing."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Can we be pleasant to each other for more than two hours? I haven't seen you all week and you're starting with this shit already. What are you talking about now? You think that I've been drugging you? You think that? Even though I've been away for a week? You're really not well," Light said, pushing himself away and grabbing a nearby t-shirt. It happened to be L's. He pulled it over his head.

"Yes, my brain is functioning a little. I'm surprised that you didn't notice. I must be due for another cup of tea, Light. It was lax of you to allow these little moments of semi-clarity. I'm sure it must be intentional for nothing you do is anything other than perfectly executed. Is it to check that I'm still here under the oblivion you have forced upon me? I must admit, when I first realised what you were doing, I was almost grateful. I've found it quite hard to care about anything lately and now I find that it's thanks to you and your wish to silence me. I'm not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted." Since Light didn't respond, L turned, reaching on the floor for trousers and pulling them over his hips. "What intrigues me is your hypocrisy," L continued. "There were at least thirty-three Kira murders of convicted rapists whose modus operandi was to spike drinks with rohypnol or ecstasy to intoxicate victims, yet you have no qualms in doing something very similar to me. Curious."

"Rapists? What? What are you bringing Kira into this for? You're being ridiculous. I... I _care_ about you."

"I have no doubt of that. Not caring in the conventional sense, but you'd be intensely bored without me being an obstacle - testing you, making you think of more ingenious ways to deceive. If I gave up though, what would you do? Because I'm very tempted to just leave you to it. Would I have served my purpose? Best get rid of me then, or, as I suspect you're doing now, trying to keep me suitably sedated and prop me up in the corner as a trophy while you take on my role with my ostensible blessing. You must know that even if kept placid, and despite whatever personal feelings I may or may not have for you, I will still believe that Kira is a despicable murderer and the paragon of injustice. I would never approve, never help you. But then, even if I did, you would never want to share anything with me, or anyone."

Light's eyes narrowed. It's true that there was a moment once, as pale grey light crept across the room one early morning. L had been asleep in his arms, breathing soft whispers of warmth along his flank, and Light had imagined he and L joining forces as Kira. But never, not for one second, had he taken it seriously. Besides, L was right. He couldn't share it. It was his duty and burden alone to bring about this new world. It was his. He could never truly trust L anyway. Fate had chosen him. L and he were born to challenge each other as the Christian God had the Devil – his slanderer, the accuser, the dissenting voice. A mind so like his own could never be trusted. But he couldn't part from him. Not yet.

"I'm not talking to you when you're like this," he resolved, making to leave, searching for trousers. Where were his trousers? Oh God, L was wearing them. This was ridiculous. Light wondered if he could claw everything back by pointing out how stupid they looked, shouting at each other while wearing each other's clothes.

"Then perhaps you should make us both some tea," L said, angrily. "Show me how you do it. Don't forget to use our special tea bowls. You always give me the same cup. The kanji of the artist's name on the base has a slight imperfection. I trust that you plan to destroy that bowl once you start clearing up evidence. The unglazed base will be porous after all and could be damming substantiation."

"You can't keep accusing me for the rest of our lives. Don't you realise how insane you sound? If anyone knew what you were saying they'd have you removed from the case. Oh wait, they already _do_ think that you're insane and should be removed from the case. Truthfully, even I'm starting to wonder whether you're unfit to lead," Light retaliated.

"How dare you." L looked lethal, his eyes clear and burning. A few moments later the glow behind them seemed to die a little. He broke eye contact to walk towards the window and the Tokyo skyline to his left. As L drew closer to the glass, Light watched his spectre reflect in the pane. Distracted momentarily by L's breath rhythmically ghosting the window, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness. An almost guilt. Disturbed, he diverted his gaze to his feet, too soft, human, and stupid upon the pale carpet. "Don't you find it strange how our situations resemble each other?" L asked, his voice soft, sad, and melodic like rainfall. "Like shards from a broken mirror. I know when you're Light, and I know when you're Kira. You're never both because you couldn't bear the conflict. I don't know how much is left of Light. Perhaps there's nothing left and Kira is the manifestation of your brilliance, as 'L' is of mine. I can't convey how it saddens me to see you being warped by your mistaken resolution, knowing that it will destroy you, and that I must destroy you. Every time I see Kira I want to rip him to shreds. I wish that I could, but it's too late now. But Light, it's so like you. The temerity of thinking that you could change the world, and not just that, but thinking that you could become a god in doing so."

Light and L lived in the silence. Their eyes met through reflection in the glass. Light suddenly shifted, avoiding the accusing gaze. "I've had enough of this," he said, dully. He rushed to his still unpacked suitcase and pulled a pair of his own jeans from it.

"Then end it now."

What did L mean? What did he want him to do? Confess? Drug him again? Push him through the window? Ludicrous. Like any of those options would solve anything. Light parted his lips to reply.

There was a familiar click sounded followed by Soichiro's deep voice through the speakers. Light could feel the bass of his father's voice resonate through his feet.

"Ryuzaki, Light, there has been a new broadcast release from Astraea."

L stalked over to the communications link, "We'll be there directly."

Taken by surprise at L's regained alertness and coherency, Light realised that the task force couldn't help but notice the dramatic improvement. Maybe they already had. What if L disclosed his new suspicions of Light? L looked very sprightly now considering his lethargy of late. Perhaps it wouldn't be dismissed so easily by the task force when presented by evidence. What if L insisted upon a blood test. A search of their rooms. A test on the tea bowl.

L had dressed himself with enough forethought to find another of his trademark t-shirts instead of opting for Light's nearby discarded shirt. It was still going to look strange that he was wearing what were obviously Light's trousers.

Light's blood surged with heat and panic. "The computer here is networked. We might as well watch it here," he said, deceptively cool. He made his way over to the desk.

"I'm aware of that, Light, but we must rejoin our associates lest we appear conceited. Also, the large screens are much better when scrutinising footage. But then, you know that." A trace of a smile flickered at L's lips as he purposefully made towards the door.

"L," Light called and the detective stopped dead in his tracks. Light's tone indicated that he was either going to disclose a level of intimacy and truthfulness, or he was going to stab L in the chest. Ah, the subtleties of a secret language. L turned to find Light standing like a reflection, wearing his clothing. A Light in L's clothing. He nearly laughed. But whatever Light wanted to say was serious, and out of range for the new audio recording of the cameras in the hallway.

"Light?" L prompted.

"I'll tell them that you've been assaulting me." Light stated, coldly. He was thinking on his feet but the words seemed to come automatically.

"Really? Why would you say a thing like that?" L replied, his face a blank page.

"If you start telling them these stories of yours, then I'll have no choice. I won't let you throw me off the case. Do you think I'll let you put me into that cell again while you search for something you can claim is evidence and frame me? If you say anything, I'll tell them that I had no choice but to sedate you. I'm sure that you realise how believable that sounds considering your behaviour and the scenarios which you've insisted upon – surveillance cameras, having me chained to you, forcing me to share a bed with you. They suspect it anyway. I mean, God, it isn't as if we've gone to great lengths to hide it. But in their eyes you are in a position of power over me. So much older than I and clearly depraved. I'll demand a rape kit. You'll be disgraced."

"Hmmm. I expected as much. You never fail to disappoint, Light," L said, casually. "I am frustrated however that, even at this point, you are unable to privately admit any guilt to me. I didn't expect it, I just hoped for it." Light stood stoically. His face a mask. His eyes were as colourless as L's in the distance. "Very well, Light. As it happens, I had no intention in relaying your latest felony to the task force, so your panic-driven threats were unnecessary, but entertaining nonetheless. Of course it goes without saying that you must dispose of whatever narcotic you've been employing. Perhaps you'd also be kind enough to let me know if I should be concerned enough to take some measures to ensure that my health is not affected in the long term? You could write me a letter or leave me a clue if you'd rather not admit it to my face. Maybe send me a card?" Still, Light stood like an abandoned Greek statue. "I think that this is a new low for you, Light, and Heaven knows that you have really scraped the barrel in your short life. But, you've not only drugged me which, I hardly need remind you, is a misdemeanour, but attempted to blackmail me with an abhorrent falsehood. Most poignant of all, I believe that this whole charade may have originated in some regard for me. That, I realise that, must annoy you beyond belief. And, for that concern, as fleeting as it was, I thank you.

L made a shallow bow before walking out of the room in his typically ungainly fashion, leaving Light fixed to the spot like a tree, listening to the shuffle of bare feet on carpet edge further and further away.

* * *

L had left the office as soon as Light came back, smartly dressed, in his own clothes. Matsuda and Aizawa caught each other's eye and Aizawa rolled his to the ceiling.

"Ryuzaki," Light said in some dismal display of politeness as L passed by him. The greeting was for the benefit of the team but he'd sharpened the tip and dipped it in sarcasm just for L. Light settled himself in his chair, calming himself to an almost catatonic state he looked over the footage. "This is different," he stated. "This isn't a threat or a demand. It's not even a warning. It's a statement of intent. It's a 'this is going to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it'.

"So they're going to attack Europe then?" Aizawa said, completely fed up. He felt like booking himself into a spa and letting Astraea get on with it.

"No," Light replied.

"What?"

"Not yet. First, they're going to take over America. This message, the army stations, they're all designed to divert out attention."

"Ryuzaki didn't say that."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything."

* * *

"So, they bought it? They think that we're going to attack Europe imminently?"

"Yes," Light said quietly into his cellphone as he stood on the HQ roof, gazing out over the sprawling mass of Tokyo. The snowcapped peak of Mount Edo in the distance barely caught the light like a faint lilac pyramid in the distance.

"Well, we'll start the next wave of executions in America," the voice stated.

"Yes, start with the army bases, the satellite stations, and the enforcement agencies. The government is riotous as it stands. The people can see what a mockery it is."

"I've had one of our men sabotage their operation systems for the deployment of warheads. They won't have any idea until they come to use them."

"Excellent."

"Are you nervous?" asked the voice.

"Nervous? No, why?"

"Because this is the eve of your great work coming to fruition. Soon, you'll be a god."

* * *

L and Light had managed to avoid each other quite masterfully through the rest of the evening. When Light finally did return to their bedroom, bringing notes about the Astraea broadcast he'd helped write in the first place, he was greeted by L's back standing by the bed. Although L was vulnerable at this point, Light was curiously struck by a feeling of trepidation. Everything lies and everything truth.

"Light," L said, staring at the bed.

"We wondered where you were. Everyone's gone home. I told them that you must be resting," Light replied.

"Ah, yes. Resting," L muttered with a hint of sarcasm. Light wished that he'd turn around. The whole scenario was disturbing him more and more. The dim light of the room and a no-doubt angry mastermind.

"L. Look at me," he said in desperation. In truth, he couldn't stand being physically ignored by L. That statement of L having turned away affected him more than he'd like to admit.

L inclined his face so Light could just make out his profile, feeling somewhat comforted. "Do I make you nervous, Light?"

"I was only concerned about the case. Now that we've got a new lead, I'm just surprised that you're not more proactive."

"You know better than most that detective work is more than sitting in front of a computer screen."

"Do you want to hear our findings so far?" Light said, proffering a file of papers.

"Perhaps," L said, turning slowly. "I'd be interested to see if your thoughts corroborate with my own," he added, holding out a hand. Light hesitated for a moment but ultimately approached L with the file outstretched before him. Instead of taking the file, L grabbed Light's wrist like a living, hungry, parasitic vine, pulling him close. Light dropped the file in surprise, papers floating and dispersed across the floor like fallen leaves. He was now against L, that familiar pressure and constriction around his wrist, their faces nearly touching. Light strained to catch a glimpse of L's face, try to gauge the situation, but he was making it increasingly difficult to read him. But then, L was often a veritable lacuna. "Rest assured, Light. Next time I plan to assault you, I will give you fair notice," L breathed softly into Light's neck.

Light regained his composure, pulling back to look into L's still pools of black water. "You understand why I had to say that, don't you?" he asked. He almost said what he was thinking - You don't love me any less, do you?

"I understand why you did it, Light," L replied, blankly.

Light leaned forwards, cupping the curving base of L's skull. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" he said. He felt L tense and resist against being drawn in. "What?" Light questioned.

"Your eyes looked... kind."

"Kind?" Light laughed. "Well, I do apologise. I'll try and look a bit more -"

"Murderous?" L interjected.

Light sighed glancing down at the increasingly loose grip L had on his wrist. "I'll be whatever you want me to be," he said, somewhere between a joke and a sad reflection. His words seemed to change something within L, and Light watched as the grasp tightened again around his wrist, uncomfortably constricting the blood supply to his hand which felt instantly swollen and numb, like a balloon.

As soon as Light raised his head again, there was almost an immediate clash of lips and teeth as L moved the angle of his head in an effort to completely cover Light's mouth with his own. Light hardly realised that he was being spun around, their places being exchanged. His free hand ran over L's head, seizing a tyrannical fistful of black hair. L mirrored the action and Light bit L's lip in retaliation. He felt the back of his knee strike the edge of the bed. Straining against the hold on his wrist, he felt too overwhelmed, spellbound, and very much aware that he had no control in this. He felt himself falling backwards. L had released him from his hold and was now watching him descend. There was a flash of uncertainty which coloured Light's eyes as he saw L's almost regretful expression. As Light landed upon the bed. He couldn't even scream as a blaze of hot, stabbing pain flared across his back.

Now he was motionless on the bed, the sudden violence of the pain ripped the breath from him. L stared down upon for a moment, now looking strangely detached as he lowered himself down over Light's still body. Light was frozen in torture, but no sound came from his shocked mouth. The depressions in the bed where L's legs sank in either side of Light's hips caused yet more discomfort. L regarded Light for a moment before tenderly running cold fingers down from his temple, brushing over a cheekbone. He leant down, kissing the corners of Light's lips. When it was obvious that he wasn't going to get the reaction that he wanted, he applied some pressure to Light's chest, pressing him further down into the bed. Light gasped, a desperate hand clawing at the neck of L's shirt as his scream was swallowed within a smothering kiss.

L released him and laid his face alongside Light's. "I don't hold grudges, Light," he whispered into his ear "But I do believe in an eye for an eye. It's strange though. You're so clever, I'm in awe of you. You've taken the right for proper vengeance from me. You killed Watari, but I can't kill you, because if I did, I'd be killing myself." He kissed Light again, dispassionately, before rising up slowly and leaving the room without a backward glance.

Light found it hard to move for the pain and lay there, corpse-like, for several minutes, trying to regulate his breathing and adjust to the agony. The thudding of his heart rocked his body, causing fresh rushes of injury. Eventually he raised himself up, slowly, feeling shards drop out of lacerations, clinking back onto the bed with a hollow sound. He forced himself to stand up, turning around slowly to inspect where he had fallen. Shards of broken porcelain had been smashed onto his side of the bed and arranged carefully, sharp edges pointing upwards, the tips now dipped in ruby. The sprinkling of warm, deep blood picked out the pink, painted blossoms.

* * *

L hadn't returned to the room for nearly three hours. Instead, he sat alone in the loneliest place he could think of, the open place where he had stayed that night when he believed Light lay dying upstairs after the Astraea attack. There had been no call from Light and truthfully, he hadn't expected one, purely based upon the young man's pride, but that didn't stop him worrying that Light was injured more seriously than he had intended. His finger hovered over the comm link to their room, but he ultimately decided to check upon him personally.

As he entered the room again, it was just as dim as before. There was a shining mass of bloodied porcelain still upon the bed and floor, alongside the dropped paper files. L noticed a glow from the bathroom and slowly approached. Inside, a pale figure sat on the shower floor, facing the tiled wall. His back was half visible, as was the dilute crimson pool swathed around him. L fought the urge to turn away, shocked at what he had done, but yet, this was what he had wanted. He had wanted to hurt Light. He had wanted revenge. He wanted him to feel the pain he had felt, but he doubted that Light was capable of feeling any kind of pain apart from physical kind.

"You broke the tea bowls," Light said, sadly.

"I assume that the symbolism didn't pass you by?" L replied. Hearing Light's faltering, dreamlike voice reminded him of his own drugged state of the past few weeks. He felt cruel and heartless again.

"I understand why you did it," Light mumbled, his voice faraway, echoing L's statement from earlier on. Just before he pushed him onto that bed of nails.

L turned off the shower irritably. "Light, the water is running cold."

"My back is burning,"

_Good, you bastard. _"Here, Light. Give me your hand."

Light glanced at the outstretched hand. His eyes suddenly grew wide with anger and fear. "No! How can I trust you now?" he shouted, edging away, grimacing at the movement.

"Since when have you ever trusted me?"

"No, I suppose that's not something we have, is it?" Light said, calming at the unhappy reflection.

"No, Light. We can't afford it. Now give me your hand." There was something desperately sad and yet reassuring about his tone. Light looked up at the paleness of L and watched as he knelt down beside him, cupping Light's scared looking face in his hand and pushing down his bottom lip with his thumb to inspect the interior.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Light demanded, swiping his hand away.

"You have pale gums, Light-kun. You're in circulatory shock," he said, matter-of-factly, while placing two fingers squarely over the veins in Light's wrist. The feel of L's grip over him caused Light to flinch again, but he caught himself before he could make more of an embarrassing scene. "Grade 2 at worst. You haven't really helped matters by sitting under running water. Cold running water at that," L pointed out. He sounded like an irritated and overworked doctor to someone who really should know better. "Come on, can you raise your arm around my neck?" He curled over in an attempt to make himself as low as possible for Light to move his arms without pulling at the lesions on his shoulders. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when his face collided with the floor. "That was childish and spiteful, Light," he said, rising back up and checking for a nosebleed or cut lip. Light glared, a hint of colour returning to his face.

L grabbed Light's arm and positioned it around the crook of his neck. As L and Light stood up, Light squealed, trying to muffle the sound with his free hand but starting from the pain. He leaned upon L for support, crushing his face into the white t-shirt. L was careful not to touch Light's back, from the glimpses he'd seen, it didn't look pleasant, but then, what did he expect?

"So now you're going to look after me, are you? That doesn't even make sense," Light said, with some effort. "You deserve a broken face and more besides, you pathetic sham. Imagine if Watari could see you now. He'd die of disappointment if he wasn't already dead," he sniped viciously. He wanted to hurt L where it really hurt him.

"Yes, I'm sure you're right," L agreed, diplomatically. "We'll get you to the bed. Are you going to behave and let me help you?"He staggered under Light's dead weight and attempted, not so successfully to deposit him gently upon the clear side of the bed.

"You're enjoying this," Light said, shivering.

"Not particularly," L replied. Turning up the heating in the room. He re-emerged from the bathroom carrying a bowl full of warm water, antiseptic, towels, and other various things in his arms.

"Are you preparing to deliver a baby," Light sniggered and hitching at the pain of the unexpected humour.

"Well, I am dealing with some kind of baby," L said. Depositing the first aid kit alongside Light and passing him a couple of painkillers, which he apparently expected Light to swallow dry.

Light sat behind L and started cutting up the back of Light's pretty much shredded, stained, and drenched shirt. Light sighed as he glimpsed Light's long fingers pulling out a pair of tweezers from the kit. L was surprisingly gentle in removing the few shards which had embedded themselves in the cuts. He worked in silence while Light gazed at the broken pottery a metre away from him. "What a shame," he said, dazedly.

"Yes, I was rather fond of them too, but that was before I found out that you were doing you very own poisoned chalice routine. Really, Light. Why must you always bring such drama into our content little lives? It's like a very badly staged production of Hamlet at times."

"Only without the mother."

"We are at a loss for mothers."

"And Ophelia."

"Well, Amane-san was a very poor Ophelia, so she was sacked."

Light tossed his head back with a shocked laugh. He probably shouldn't have. "So, you've seen the tape again. I'm guessing that's where you've been."

"Hmmm..." L hummed while struggling with adhesive butterfly strips."

"Is this going to scar?" Light said, suddenly alert.

"You'll never see it."

"That's not the point! Oh for God's sake, give me that," Light said, tearing the mangled butterfly strip from L's hands peeling it apart in a matter of seconds despite shaking hands.

"Very impressive, Light."

"So, the video," Light muttered. To business.

"Bland, uncommitted, and third-rate. We'll have a meeting in the morning."

"Oh, that'll be fun. Me and my shredded back and you with a black eye will give that air of authority and seriousness which has so far been lacking. Why are you being so nice to me anyway? You're like another person."

"That might have something to do with the medication you forced upon me."

"Are you happy because we're on an even playing field again?"

"We'll never be even. Never again. Perhaps we never were."

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, you're always sorry," L sighed. "You seem in very good spirits considering. I expected a knife in my back, not jokes. Yes, you seem strangely happy when by rights you should be extremely angry."

"Are you insane? Actually, don't answer that. I'm not happy, I _am_ angry. What you did was completely unnecessary, I just realise that you're mentally unstable at the moment."

L looked up at the ceiling as if there were answers there. He was pretty certain that he would never have descended to this level of pre-meditated violence before. Maybe Light had a point. But God, he hated him. He loved him. "That's it," he said, with some finality. He stood from his crouched position, hopped off the bed, carefully side stepping any rogue shards of porcelain on the floor, and began gathering up the bloodied sheets which were strewn with broken pottery.

"That's it?" Light said.

"It wasn't as bad as you made out."

"Ok, don't talk to me ever again. We have a meeting in a couple of hours and you've julienned my back," Light blustered. He sat for a few moments watching L walk around the clump of pottery in the centre of the bed like it was ceremonial bonfire, picking up the odd piece with fingertips, inspecting them and dropping them into the greater pile.

"At least put some shoes on. You'll get a splinter in your feet," Light said, managing with a little twinge of pain to lift himself from the bed while L gathered the sheets into a ball.

"No, I won't," L said in an irritating sing-song voice. He stopped abruptly and stared at Light accusingly, "Would it bother you if I did?"

"Fine." Light said, crossing his arms and immediately wishing he hadn't when a sting of pain ran down one arm. When L had his back to him, Light smiled.

* * *

_Kira sat haughtily in the chair in the centre of the room, relishing the attention and the feeling of expectation rather than shrinking from it as Misa had done._

"_We had to be assured that L was not trailing you. I'm surprised that he's not. Is he unwell?"_

"_In a manner of speaking."_

"_Dear, dear."_

"_Enough of the niceness. L is very much alive, something I do not anticipate changing anytime soon."_

"_You shock me. Surely L's death is necessary?"_

"_Not at this point in time."_

"_You do like making life hard for yourself don't you, Kira?"_

"_The question is, why has it taken you so long to contact me."_

"_Forgive us, we were aware that Kira was unable to move freely but, as it transpired, it was apparently by your own choice. It was no easy decision that led to our contacting you. Ultimately, it seemed that you desired us to. The danger is probably split equally between us. Astraea can offer you the freedom you need to enforce your divine judgement. We just hope that you will run it by your disciples first?" the voice said, with more of a hint of sarcasm._

"_Sounds like politics."_

"_That's the idea."_

"_Also sounds like you personally don't necessarily approve of us joining forces."_

"_I won't lie to you, Kira. There are some pretty fervent followers of yours within our group. Your ideals and ours are similar because, we believe, it is the common wish of the people. In only one respect do you bother me; your attachment to L."_

"'_Attachment' is the wrong word."_

"_What would you call it?" the shrouded figure asked._

"_What would you call it, V?"_

* * *

**A/N **

Apparently Kira and Astraea are bedbuddies, but Light, as usual, is playing everyone off against each other. Lovely boy.

I've brought masturbation chat into the fic. Classy. And innuendoes for **wordbombs**. Hell, innuendoes for everybody! I really intended for this chapter to be a bit lighter (ha) but uurrrgh L is so angsty. Jeez, Rescue Panda, lighten up.

Aaaand I watched _L Change the WorLd_ because I haven't seen it for a while and I missed the weeping pustules and L with adorable children riding a bike and crêpe-love and plane-jacking and what the hell were they thinking when they made that film? I don't know but I'm glad they did, aren't you? There I was, watching all the cracktastic hijinks, when I noticed that L's email account shows that he has V in his contact list (although the V looks like a dead contact, like B). Acebeans. Also, the idea that B and L ever exchanged emails is amusing.


	16. Wind in the Wires

**A/N.** Yay, I've earned my M rating. Kinda. No, not really. Mostly it's because I can't stop swearing. Now, I'm crap at writing sex scenes, I'm warning you. Absolute crap, as you will find out. Oh, how I laughed. I fell back to wordy poetry, random words, and shameless romanticism because I find that easier than being excruciatingly graphic. **MuffinGuy** described the sex scenes (I say that loosely) as being 'word porn', which made me laugh even more. I nearly didn't publish it. Writing sex is _hard_, this I have learned. You'd think it'd be easy considering that E.L. James made a fortune out of it. Jesus. My 'inner goddess' is committing suicide.

Italic section is a flashback.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

** Wind in the Wires**

_Wind in the wires_

_It's the sigh of wild electricity_

_I'm on the edge of a cliff_

_Surpassing_

_Comfort and security_

_But here comes a gale_

_A crippling anger_

_Sea birds are blown_

_Into the rocks_

_Grace is lost to thunder_

_Pressure. Thunder. Pressure. Getting Low._

_It's just a little sigh_

~ Patrick Wolf

* * *

Sometime ago, Matsuda had left a post-it on one of the laptops, in the CD drive of which he'd accidentally managed to wedge a biro in an attempt to extricate something.

'Pen is stuck in drive'

Only the 'pen' and 'is' were written too close together. L now had a 'penis stuck in drive' post-it stuck on his laptop screen. He was considering framing it.

Light frowned at it. He rolled his shoulders gingerly, feeling the tight stretch of the cuts he'd been delivered by L. Dark, gluttonous scabs pulled against the raw, uncomfortable skin.

"Since everything has gone belly up, can I have my holiday now?" Aizawa said, lazily.

"Oh God," Matsuda sighed.

"So the U.S. will fall. They'll be infiltrated from the inside. It's bolloxed." Aizawa stated the facts bluntly. Everyone around the table slouched.

"Not necessarily," L chirped, his fingers dancing, scuttling across the table surface towards some sad looking doughnuts.

Soichiro arms were crossed and the grey lines in his hair were like corn rows. L's word was hope itself. "What do you mean, Ryuzaki?" he asked.

"Well, I have a confession. I've been expecting this. It's hardly a surprise. My friend in Havana and I have been working on this for some months."

"You actually have a friend in Havana?"

"Not important right now, Matsuda," Aizawa scolded.

"And?" Light prompted. L turned to look at his lovely face and was again hit by the startling awareness that he would have had people incarcerated for lesser crimes of grievous bodily harm than what he'd inflicted upon Light at few hours before. Beyond would have been proud. Beyond would have revelled in carving up Light's beauty, except Beyond wouldn't have felt even the most anaemic tinge of guilt afterwards.

"As Aizawa-san stated," L coughed, "Astraea's M.O. is to infiltrate from the inside. Without names and faces, there is very little they can do. Despite the ridiculous declaration of theirs, it's clear that Astraea's real intention is to attack the United States. So, the infiltration attempt will likely begin tonight or tomorrow. Either way, even allowing for double guessing that they attack Europe after all, I have ensured that they will not successful. There will be some casualties perhaps, but in the end it will come to nothing. They'll be quite annoyed with me won't they?" L smiled at Light like a little horror who had just happily punched his little sister in the gut.

"Astraea are just generally annoyed but I think you're off their Christmas card list now," Light replied with a smile.

"Dearie me. Do you think that Kira is annoyed with me?"

"Why would Kira be annoyed with you? I mean, in relation to this."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"I'd be worried about Astraea at the moment if I were you."

"Yes, I suppose that I should be."

"I take it that both you and your friend in Havana are prepared for some fallout?"

"Oh yes."

"So, crisis averted. As easy as that?" Aizawa asked.

Light smiled downwardly into his folded arms. L had not only taken the correct measures, but had anticipated them long before. He'd worked secretively, the little monster, and Light was proud of him in that moment. Light's intention was to mislead Astraea, to make them feel cornered. He wanted to make them desperate in their defeat by L, before Kira came down upon them like a vengeful god and picked up the pieces. He wondered whether L knew that he was his partner in crime.

"But, um, Ryuzaki? How? What have you done?" Matsuda said, leaning forward a little in awe.

"Obviously an attack was expected," L explained. "After we had confirmation of Astraea's first tactics of control, all relevant staff identification records have been scrambled. That is to say, all military, police and health care personnel's names and faces do not match. Simple enough in theory but in execution it has been quite an undertaking. Therefore, unless Astraea preempted my action and had already obtained the information before their coup upon the UK, and there's a 27% chance of that being the case, then their attack should fail. Of course, once they realise this, it will not take them long to develop an alternate plot. I have been in talks with security agencies around the world, specifically working closely with the SPK. In fact..." he said, droning off into a low whine as he clicked open a comms link. "Good morning, N," he said, delicately holding a Hershey Kiss by the little paper ribbon.

"L," was the hollow reply through the speaker. Light wondered how long he'd been kept waiting on hold. Knowing L, it may well have been days.

"N is one of my contacts at the SPK who has been working with me on this operation over the last few months by email," L explained to the Task Force. "N, I have just informed my team of our preventive measures against Astraea. I trust that you don't mind being on speakerphone?" The voice didn't reply. There was a faint sound of breathing and what sounded like dropping paper. L lost patience quickly. "If these measures are a success, be sure to have R handle your finances and enter discussions with the SPK regarding an increase in your fees."

"Thank you," the voice replied.

"There's absolutely nothing to thank me for. The reason I've contacted you is that I have decided that our teams should continue to cooperate. I am sure that we both have information which, if shared, would complete the puzzle. The disruption of Astraea's plans is enough of a testing plate."

And N loved completing puzzles. "I also believe that there is a link between Astraea and Kira," the voice replied. He sounded young and with some words a muted, warm, American twang cut through gruffness.

"Of course there is," L said, brusquely. It sounded like a slap on the hand. "So, are you willing to work with us?"

"Yes, L. I'd be honoured."

"Good. Then that concludes our discussion for today. I shall contact R and have him give you access to the server where we can share information. My files have already been uploaded, I would appreciate you doing the same. Please do not inform the NPA of our collaboration. Thank you for your time. Oh, and N?"

"Yes, L."

"No news on M?"

"No. There are -"

"Yes, but all you come up with are various dead ends. Very well, N. You can contact me on this line at any time should you have anything of import to share."

Cut dead. Chocolate popped into mouth.

"Congratulations, once again you've worked underhandedly," Light said, though he did sound vaguely impressed, not reproachful.

"Thank you, Light. I do pride myself on my ability to be underhand on occasion. You don't seem angry though?"

"I am! This is disgraceful!" Aizawa exclaimed. "What are we here for if you're just going to go about sorting everything out without us?"

"It was necessary for security reasons, Aizawa-san. Please don't take it personally. You're still my favourite task force."

"Aren't we your only task force?" Matsuda asked.

"Well done, Ryuzaki. You really are quite remarkable," Soichiro said. L nodded sadly in gratitude. It was like something Watari used to say when he was much younger when he'd do something as simple as completing a spelling test on a single sheet of paper. He turned to Light.

"I never expected anything less," Light smiled appealingly. He was difficult to read beyond that because, for L, when Light turned on the charm, he had all the razzmatazz of a Busby Berkeley musical.

"Oh, the praise is overwhelming. My giddy heart," L said, awkwardly. "So, now we must wait and see what happens. U.S. airspace has been locked down, which is nice. And the country is on high alert, unbeknownst to the general public. Heaven forbid that they should actually be aware of what is going on," he sighed. "Europe is also on alert, but then there's no change there." He all but dusted his hands.

"Is there anything else that we can do but wait?" Soichiro grunted, apparently annoyed by the idea that they sit tight in the bomb shelter.

"Yagami-san, Aizawa-san, and Matsuda-san, I have arranged for a hotel accommodation outside of Tokyo for your families until the Astraea case is resolved."

"But why, Ryuzaki?"

"To avoid a retaliation attempt against me by using task force families as leverage. Unfortunately, it wouldn't cut it with me. I do not submit to hostage situations. I cannot guess exactly how much Astraea know about those who work for me. I am therefore simply trying to avoid a possible situation."

"You think that our families are in danger?" Aizawa asked, his alarmed voice raised a few decibels.

"Is this anything to do with what happened last -"

"Astraea could know where you live, yes," L interrupted Matsuda rudely. "I believe that there is a 99% possibility that Astraea are aware of the I.D. and home address of at least one person in this room."

You were watching me. I knew that you would, Light thought.

"Dear God!" Soichiro exclaimed

"I suggest that you leave immediately and have your families move. Have them pack a weekend bag only. Anything else they require will be provided for them. There are some credit cards which I've had delivered. They're on the desk over there. There's one for each of you, and one for your families. "

"This is very generous. Thank you Ryu-"

"Needless to say, please do not inform them of the true reason for their move. Simply tell them that it's a complimentary vacation on behalf of the task force executives. You may go with your father, Light, if you wish to see your family."

"Ryuzaki, don't you think that someone should stay with you?" Light said.

"Unnecessary."

"I'll stay."

"I said that it's unnecessary, Light."

"Yes, and I said that I'm staying." L's brow furrowed at this. Light had the distinct feeling that he had disrupted something. "Unless you had plans?" he said, sulkily.

"No. What plans would I have?" L said with an equal sulkiness.

"Well then."

"Light, don't you want to see your mother and Sayu?" Soichiro asked, leaning towards Light. Light jumped, thinking for a moment that his father was going to smack him on his injured back with a manly, coercing, police officer hand.

"Of course I do, Dad. But someone has to stay with Ryuzaki. I saw Mum and Sayu yesterday, I don't want another goodbye scene on the doorstep any time soon. Oh, and being stuck in a car with Sayu singing along to the radio is... just, no." Soichiro had to nod admittance to that. He'd have to find his ear plugs before he left.

"Fine, fine. You can all leave in three hours," L said with a flourish. "It'll be safer for you to travel unheeded out of Tokyo during rush hour. Until then, continue with your work. You can return in the morning and stay in HQ thereafter, for the time being at least."

"Many thanks, Ryuzaki. It's very thoughtful of you. Isn't it, Light?" Soichiro urged.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Thanks, Ryuzaki."

"What is it, Light?" L asked, intrigued by Light's humoured expression.

"I'm just thinking about there being yet another letter person. How many more of these initials are knocking about? When you run out of Roman alphabet, do you use Cyrillic?" Privately, Light wondered whether L would eventually dump the 'L' pseudonym and become 'The Detective Formally Known as L'.

"Now that you mention it. Light -"

"And are they in order of importance? Because L is kind of middling which makes me wonder that A must be quite impressive."

"There is some basic logic in that theory but unfortunately, Light, you're woefully incorrect."

"Then L is the centre and importance radiates either side in lessening levels of ability?" Light grinned. Some part of him loved to see L irritated and uncomfortable.

"Light, please stop. There is no radiating. I am not Chernobyl."

"So we're working with the SPK now?" Soichiro interrupted the nonsense, his square jaw was heavy.

"Part of it, yes. It is necessary," L explained. "And, as I requested of N, please do not inform the NPA of it, Yagami-san. Organisations which are forced to cooperate tend to complicate things with monetary matters. N is unaware of our limitations in terms of manpower. It was never an issue before but there will be some need of it in the future. I am sorry to say that we may be forced to hire some more team members."

"Urgh."

"Urgh, indeed, Light. Also, it is possible that they have information that we do not. Possible. Had I not been... indisposed for those few weeks then I probably would not have seen the need to include the SPK, but life is difficult and continues to vomit on my head."

"I wonder what N stands for," Light pondered aloud. "'Nobody', 'Notus', 'Nomad', 'Nincompoop', 'Norman', 'Nemo', 'Neo," Soichiro and Aizawa glanced at each other and left the table. Matsuda stayed, leaning over as if his was a star-struck teen who, by some happy chance of fate, was sitting on the cool boys' table during the lunch break and they hadn't told him to piss off yet. Light continued to muse, "'Norris', 'Nathaniel', 'Noah', 'Ned', 'Nando', 'Napoleon', 'Nelson', 'Nickelodeon', 'Nicodemus' -"

"Near," L said, abruptly. "It stands for Near, Light. Remember it. I'm glad that you're showing an interest though, for I never expected any less of you. However, I am most insulted on his behalf that you think that he could be named after a lost fish or Keanu Reeves."

"Is 'F's' name, 'Far'? Does 'A' stand for, 'Away'? Maybe there are some named after the seven dwarves?"

"Are you irritated that you will have to work with others, Light? That is not a very good attribute in a future employee of the NPA, or any another other organisation, to be fair. Even Burger King have standards."

"Hmm... Well, you've done it now. Whoever he is, he better not put calls through at three in the morning."

"Indeed. You are rather a nine to five boy, aren't you? I'll be sure to tell him that all crises must happen between Light Yagami's working hours."

"It's a bit like what happened last week, isn't it, Ryuzaki?" Matsuda chirped.

"Quiet, Matsuda-san," L admonished. Matsuda recoiled.

"What happened last week?" Light asked.

"Nothing. Matsuda-san is just very stupid. The opening of a post box is a time of great rejoicing for him. He is impressed with very little."

"What happened last week, Matsuda-san?" Light repeated.

"Ack!" Matsuda gurgled, the stress showing on his face and ageing him thirty years in ten seconds.

"Matsuda-san, if you open your mouth again, consider yourself unemployed. You will never get a job in this country or the entire world ever again. You will be under a bridge and living on dead pigeons for the rest of your life"

"UGH!"

"Matsuda-san, don't be afraid of him, he can't sack you," Light eased, comfortingly. "Tell me what happened last week?"

"I can't!"

"Very good thinking, Matsuda-san. Well done for making the right decision. Don't charm him into submission, Light," L said, smiling smugly at Light and raising himself from the chair and taking the bowl of sweets with him.

"Where are you going now?" Light asked him.

"I have to contact someone in private."

"You're running away."

"Don't be ridiculous, Light," L answered as he scurried out the door.

* * *

After twenty minutes of Light's best pestering interrogation tactics, Matsuda was on the brink of a mental collapse. Light followed the panicked man around like persistent wasp.

"Matsuda, tell me what happened."

"I can't, Light, I told you. I can't afford to lose my job."

"You won't. I'll make sure that you don't. Matsuda!"

"I can't! PLEASE!" Matsuda said, despairingly, getting tearful.

"Matsuda -"

"Oh jeeeeeez, someone tried to assassinate Ryuzaki, ok?!" Aizawa relented, regretting it almost immediately and knowing that he was simply trading off one problematic young man's wrath for another's. Light stood dumbfounded, staring at Aizawa as if to determine if he was completely sane. Almost immediately, Matsuda's slack jaw began churning with babble.

"It was last Wednesday and I wanted to phone you but it happened at after ten at night and he told us not to mention it to you or even to the Chief and if we ever did he'd sack us and -"

"WHAT?"

* * *

"Somebody tried to assassinate you?" Light shouted, bursting in the bedroom.

L looked at him attentively from Light's chair by the window. A phone hung by spider-like fingers beside his ear. He felt endangered and readied himself for an onslaught. Then he remembered that he was holding a phone. "I'll call you back," he said, ending the call abruptly. "Light -"

"Somebody tried to kill you and you didn't tell me?"

L calmly clicked open the comms link to the office. "Matsuda-san, you're sacked," he said decisively.

"It wasn't me!" Matsuda screamed back over the tiny speakers.

"Everyone is sacked," L amended. A conglomeration of, 'fine, whatever' and, 'oh no!' screeched back in reply before L switched off the machine altogether. Light was staring at him expectantly which made L sigh and scratch at his forearm self-consciously. "Assassinate is an overly dramatic word," he said. "It was more of a potshot which didn't work, clearly. Poor shot."

"You make it sound like a mishap in an amusement arcade. Somebody tried to kill you and you didn't think to mention it?"

"I really didn't see the point."

"I don't believe this," Light said, pacing.

"It's not the first time. I have contracts on my life, you know about that. It was a very minor concern. Wedy and another agent have dealt with it."

"Dealt with it. You mean they're dead? Whoever tried to kill you are dead. Who was it, Astraea?"

"Whoever it was, they're dead. Wedy found them that way though, which was unfortunate as I would have been quite interested to talk with them. As to whether it was Astraea or not, as I said, I couldn't possibly say. The hapless would-be-assassins had absolutely no ID on them and they're not turning up on any of the normal databases. They seem to be a non-people, but that's just to be expected. They could just be a hitmen. Very poor ones admittedly, but hitmen none the less."

"But they knew that you were L. They were aiming for you."

"That could just have been down to a process of elimination. Ha, literally."

"Do you actually find this funny? I fucking don't," Light said, aggressively, getting increasingly annoyed by L's indifferent attitude. "Matsuda said that it was him who noticed. He said that you were just standing there like an idiot."

"I was not. I was discussing something with Matsuda-san, in this very chair in fact, when he noticed the laser range finder... here," he dabbed at a roughly the centre of his chest, "and then up it went to the head apparently. Right here. Like Cyclops. Yes."

"Fuck!" Light exclaimed. L smiled. "Wait. In here?" Light asked. "What was Matsuda doing in here?"

"He brought me some coffee, some zabaglione, and absolutely no sexual favours. There's a slight chip from the bullet on the window if you look closely enough. Oh. It's probably too cloudy for you to see it now. In a certain light, it's quite prominent." L mused.

"Great. I'm so thrilled to know that you haven't been fucking Matsuda under the table while I was away because that hadn't entered my mind until you mentioned it. As if that would happen. I'll look forward to the next sunny day then, so I can see this glorious bullet mark on the window. Was this part of your 'eventful week'?"

"It was one of the more exciting moments, yes. Personally, I blame you, Light. Your insistence to have the blinds and curtains open has left me vulnerable."

"What? I don't -"

"It doesn't matter in any case," L said, standing straight up upon Light's chair. His head was nearly eight feet in the air before he stepped down to the floor, lightly. He placed the phone on the desk. "All windows in the building are made of bullet-proof glass. A professional would have known that."

Light was incensed. Not so much that L didn't tell him, because frankly, he wouldn't have expected him to. But it was L's offhand, irritated temper, along with the thought that Astraea had attempted an attack on L's life, which upset him. Astraea, the collection of fuckwits who Light considered to be in his pocket, around his little finger, and wherever else he wanted them to be. He had made it clear to them that that was not to happen. L was off-limits. V had agreed. She promised. They'd all promised him the day after they'd tried to kill L! He was sure that it was Astraea. Who else could possibly know L on sight?

"It does matter! For fuck's sake, why didn't you tell me? Why are you still here? We should be out of here now that someone knows where L is. They have a suspected sighting!"

"Please stop shouting, Light. My head has had enough of it," L said, gripping vainly at his coal dust hair as if to ease some inner drumming. Light crossed the last few feet to reach him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said more softly, tenderly pushing some strands of hair from L's eyes.

"There was nothing to tell," L replied, staring into Light's eyes with a hint of hatred. "There was nobody to care."

Light's jaw grew tense before he punched L hard just below his eye. The impact sent L a step off balance, his head forced to one side. The sound was sharp and furious as it possessed the room. Light lowered his hand slowly while L stayed fixed, and Light watched a livid pinkish welt bloom across his cheek. He reached for him, his hand curled behind L's ear as he kissed the bruise in apology and felt the angry heat of it beneath his lips. "I care." Light whispered.

L snorted at the bizarreness of the statement, considering what had preceded it. "Because you love me?" he asked.

"Yes."

L smirked bitterly. Light tried to kiss his mouth but L was evasive, jerking his head away whenever Light got close. Light grew frustrated and grabbed L roughly to hold him in place until he hands were shaken off angrily. They stood staring questioningly at each other for a few seconds before L made a decision and reached for Light's shirt. He still wore a bad tempered expression as he began tugging at the cotton at Light's stomach, ballooning it up and freeing it from the waistband. Light looked down, watching mutely, not completely comprehending. He sensed only anger and frustration as L attacked his clothes, fighting with his belt. He watched L concentrating and roughly tugging at the leather, avoiding his eyes, like he wasn't really there at all. Light's breathing grew laboured and blood and anger rushing in his ears like a torrent. He pushed L away to clumsily fall against the back of a chair.

"What are you doing? Think," Light said, coldly. After a few silent seconds, L walked past him, face down-turned, walking into the bathroom without a word.

Light straightened his appearance and debated going into the bathroom and beating the shit out of L, but instead decided to crawl across the made bed and listen to the tap water running in the bathroom and wonder what L was thinking. He was always more of a challenge. When L did finally return, Light felt without the confirmation of sight that L was staring at him from the threshold. He was unsure what to do. There was the eventual shuffling friction of bare feet on carpet as L drew closer and crept into bed. Light's stomach lurched suddenly with the pain of how everything was breaking around them. He turned to L, who was crumpled up on his side, facing him, his eyes squeezed shut in a way Light that hardly ever saw. Then Light understood. He'd always understood. L had tried to hurt him. He'd tried to inoculate himself but now he knew that he couldn't and that he must accept the pain like a gift. Light looked down to L's open hands and traced scrolling patterns over the life lines of his palms. Trying to bring forth a resurrection along an open road. He had an absurd wish to avoid talking ever again. He couldn't bear the deeply tender-hearted nature of their relationship which seemed so necessary. It seemed increasingly more integral the more destructive it became, as they both desperately tried to fix it and kill it at the same time. If looked at from a distance, which Light often did, it was vaguely repellant. It was about time that they gave up on trying to conceal their intense longing and hatred for each other. They had so little time left.

"You're worrying me," Light said. His voice was weak and he couldn't comprehend why. L didn't reply, he just pushed his face further into the pillow and kept his skyward palms open for Light. "I mean it," Light continued. "You're worrying me. I sit, watching you, and I lose you over and over again."

"You worry _me _so perhaps that's just how things are supposed to be," L said, sadly, into the sheets.

"No. It's not." Light grazed a thumb over L's cheek where a bruise was forming. As he leaned over, he exhaled from the twinge of pain shooting across his back. There was a strange, numbing dampness there, and he noticed a fleck, like a bird's footprint, red upon the white pillow. L opened his eyes.

"Light, your back. You're bleeding again," reaching a hesitant hand towards L's shoulder.

"I'm not surprised," Light said through a weak laugh.

"I'll fix it," L stated, sitting up.

Light grabbed his wrist. "No, leave it."

"You're getting blood on the bed."

Light laughed at the stupidity of the remark. "It's fine," he said.

"You don't pay the laundry bill."

"Send me the bill then," Light said, closing his eyes.

L lay down next to him again. "I don't care about the laundry bill," he mumbled, sadly, as if he wished that he did.

"I know."

"Let me get the first aid kit."

"L, no. Just stay here. I need you to stay here. It'll stop in a minute."

"It's on my hands."

"What?"

"Your blood."

Light opened his eyes to see L peering at the thin red coating shining on his pale fingertips. "Oooh, how symbolic," Light laughed. "But that doesn't matter either. My blood is the finest that Japan has to offer, I have it on good authority. Just stay there."

"I don't understand," L muttered, sounding utterly lost.

"What?"

"Why you want me around you."

"What else would I do? Sit in the dark and talk to myself while you do the same thing downstairs? We're supposed to be together," Light said. He didn't mean for it to sound sentimental, it was just plain to him. It was something he was sure of.

"Light, I -"

"Let's not," he interrupted. "I'm hardly going to look back on the last twenty-four hours with fondness." He turned to L for a quick glimpse, maybe to check that he was still there. "And I was so happy to see you as well," he reflected.

"Were you?"

"Of course I was. I still am. Even last night. Even when you came into the bathroom to... I don't know. To check if I was still alive? And I was so fucking angry with you. Even... I'm always happy to see you. Ok. I need a psychiatrist." He smiled, exhausted. He rubbed a careless hand through his hair in despondency. As he exposed his forehead, L's bloodstained finger was drawn to the thin, pearl-like scar on Light's forehead.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, Light. I'm not helping you," L said.

"What makes you think that? The big hack marks on my back?" L pushed his face into Light's neck. "You idiot," Light sighed. "If you were going to make me hate you, at least you could have done it properly."

"I'm sorry."

"I said that we're not talking about it. We're just dysfunctional, that's all. Maybe we'll grow out of it." They were silent for a while, Light's elbow stayed at a strange, mathematical angle so he could slowly twirl veins of L's dark, indulgent hair around his fingers.

"You're beautiful. I love you," L whispered in his ear, as if awoken from a dream. It was such a terribly arbitrary and sincere a comment in its innocence, that Light smiled.

"So I hear. Anyway, it means nothing. Everything's beautiful to you," he scoffed.

"Only you really. Anything else is only in relation to you. I think that it's sad that you don't find anything beautiful."

"So, I'm the benchmark? I should be in the Louvre." It was joke, but for a moment he could see his image sculpted in marble and gold leaf. He forced his mind back to L. "Beautiful... perhaps not. No, I don't think that I do find many things beautiful. On occasions I've found you beautiful but I put that down to my age, testosterone, dim lighting, and your general sluttishness. That kind of thing." In truth, Light didn't find many things beautiful. Everything on close inspection betrayed flaws, and how could something be truly beautiful if it wasn't perfect? What he and L had was beautiful because it was so temporary. This transient time went by so quickly and they both knew it. Arguments would start because they couldn't ignore the fear of loss. They felt constrained. It was a common factor they fought against violently. What they had was perfect and beautiful, no matter how they both attempted to weaken it because that was easier. L turned his gaze to the ceiling. Light grew used to L's sudden broken moments, as if he'd leave his body to look at things objectively, not liking what he saw. It reminded Light of something. "Do you remember that night before you met with Misa?" he asked.

"Before you threw me around the building like a rag doll? Yes, I remember," L sighed.

"That night. I was happy then," Light stated. And it was a statement. It was his last will and testament and he wanted L to have it. He wanted to leave him with something. He was aware of L turning to look at him. Light had never hinted at ever feeling happy. There were no memories that stood out for him. Everything was imbued with an unsurprised cast. Memories wrapped in clinical cellophane and put in storage. He always gave off the distinct impression that he was bored with everything and everyone, and mostly that was true. L had suspected that Light was desensitised to happiness or anything like it, as he had been once himself. Or that maybe Light couldn't recognise it, even if he did happen to feel it momentarily.

"You did seem quite smitten then, which shocked me somewhat," L said, tiredly.

"You shocked me somewhat," Light laughed, relieved at the ease in the tension hanging in the air like a mosquito net.

"I got that impression, the way you were going on. I thought that you were going to start acting like an Anaïs Nin novel - 'And I thought that I would surely faint!'"

"It wasn't quite that bad."

"You mean that it wasn't quite that good," L suggested with a diluted, hollow laugh.

"I didn't faint in any case."

"We'll have to work on that. So yes, I thought that you'd had an aneurism. Just when I think I know you, I realise that it's just never-ending. It's all such a mistake."

"A mistake," Light repeated. It could have been a question, but he was trying to take it in like water. "I'm a mistake."

"I didn't mean you."

"I know what you meant."

L raised his eyes towards him. "No, you don't. Light -"

"It's ok. These things are never meant to last for long," Light whispered.

L turned back to stare on the ceiling again, as Light did. The two of them lying on their backs as if the open sky was before them instead of some bleakly impersonal and inoffensive magnolia emulsion. Light sighed as he lived that night over again in his mind. Tainted as it was with the anger of what happened afterwards, he tried to pin down exactly what it was that was different in that hazy violet tinged darkness. The sleepy, babyish sluggishness when faced with lust and the barely awake responses had worn off quickly, giving way to unspoken loyalties and rapture in the richest hours. Every second was grace, declaring their devotion and all the while fighting like tempests. They insisted that they were intended for each other, not simply two strangers that Fate was playing games with. He wanted to believe that he wasn't a game to L. Not anymore.

The resolution of the end was one which neither wished to confront, yet it was on the horizon now. Shadowed. A great emptiness, and there was no way that they could avoid it. Then Light realised what it was in the heaviness of that night - there was no great battle of mind and morals. Light had felt accepted, and he'd accepted L. It felt like forgiveness.

The silence hung, tilting, heavy. Light rolled a lazy hand under his shirt and over the fuse of hairs that ran to his belt like a ruled line. L propped himself up on his elbow and ran a clean hand over Light's soft, parted lips. Light's tongue smoothed up, licking the fingers, drawing them into his mouth. L smiled unconsciously, as if looking at an incorrigible but adorable thing. He trailed the shining fingers from Light's mouth, tracing them over his lips again, dampening them for the kiss. Light pulled him towards him and their love was so all-encompassing at that moment that they wanted it to end.

Light mind felt like chilled razors. L's hands wandered and Light took some vague interest. His head had a tousled weight, as though straining against fluid and the faster pulse of blood through his temples as L kissed the flat almost concave valleys of his stomach. A dark cardiac throb vibrated like measured cadences through his torso as he gave himself up to L's administrations. Each stretching, constricting breath drawn out with arching fibres as they breathed in their own gorgeous mess. They lived for these moments and had worked so intently to keep them. It frightened Light to realise how far he would go for him. He had killed Watari because he had felt threatened, he knew that now. He had even impersonally mulled over the thought of killing his own father for L. There was the thought that, if he could erase everyone, for nobody understood, somehow they could stay together, as they should be. Sometimes, at times like this, Light had been momentarily repelled, both by L's devotion to him, and by his own helplessness and disgusting need for him. He would convince himself that it wasn't important, that it was ending, and not before time. His heart would even grow hardened to the thought. Then L would reassert himself and show the jewel of a mind and the cruelty of an executioner. Light grew drunk on it, walking around half-dazed by hours old pulsing moments when his heart would beat and he said goodbye to any rational thought and allowed L to butcher Kira from him.

He had the remote recognition that these were last few hours, the last days. He could count them on one hand. Still he was unwilling to let him go. Every day he saw less of L and more of a shade, a dead soul walking only for his sake. He should end it. Because L couldn't. Wouldn't. Light put it off because he would have to live off these months for a long time, however long he had. L didn't understand that. He didn't know that there would be nothing for Light; Ryuk had been clear and there was little scope for interpretation - there would be no reuniting in a glowing afterlife. Light would be alone and Mu would envelop him, whatever that was. Maybe it was just nothing. He should be grateful for nothing, but it made everything seem more sad. And so he put all of his life into these few minutes and turn his back on the span of empty years ahead when he would change things for the world at the cost of his own life.

* * *

Certainly two hours had passed. The task force were due to leave but Aizawa had grown bored of waiting and had already left to install his family into their temporary home. When his wife had found out that there was a spa, she was ecstatic about the whole idea, regardless of whether her husband would be joining her and their daughter. Aizawa didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned. Soichiro and Matsuda talked downstairs and wondered when Light and Ryuzaki were going to show their faces, or that maybe they should just leave. They felt a little like two children waiting to be waived off on their first day of school.

Upstairs, the sky was bruising, casting shadows around the room. The cool grey tone was chilling and it was probably that fading light that convinced L that they should move. They hadn't spoken for a while. Light could well be asleep for all he knew.

"Well..." L began, turning towards the window and making some effort to leave. "We better go and see them off I suppose. They'll be leaving. Can you... uh... can you phone them and tell them that we'll be late?" L said, feebly. He was surely in a worse state. He couldn't feel his legs and checked to make sure that they were still there.

"Shall I phone them and tell them that we're fucked, quite literally, and that they won't see us until next week?" Light said, boastfully.

"That sounds nice. Whatever you think is best." Light hopped off to grab the phone from the desk and collapsed back into his still-warm place next to L while he tried to figure out how to use the overly complicated internal call system. "Tell them to phone us if the world's going to explode," L said, stretching and working an arm under Light's neck. "I do so like an apocalypse."

"Hi, Matsuda-san," Light said as brightly as he could into the phone. He didn't want to sound overly excited, but neither did he want to sound shagged out. He was aiming for breezy and hardworking. "We're, I mean Ryuzaki and I, we're fine tuning some research material... Yes, that's fine. We should be down in an hour if that's acceptable?"

"It better be bloody acceptable," L muttered.

"Sssshhh..." Light said cupping his hand over the phone to shield it. "Yeah, Matsuda-san. Thank you."

"One hour," he said, dropping the phone on the floor, carelessly. He leaned back into L's loose limbed hold. L basked in Light's golden charisma while Light nipped at his lower lip. It was like just after Light had woken from the Astraea attack, when his lungs still burned and he'd cough at the slightest movement. L would protest against Light exerting himself, at which point Light climbed on top of him and kissed him into quietude. If neither would give way, a rather affectionate kind of wrestling would ensue, interspersed with barks of laughter and hushed shock when they knocked over a lamp.

As Light lazily doodled his fingertips over L's body when L fell back into his silent, maudlin reminiscences, he could almost see the film reels turning over in L's mind. The unblinking, thousand yard stare at the overhead light which Light really couldn't imagine was that interesting. L looked sour, strangely contented, and mysterious as Light kissed the back of his neck, weakly trying to encourage him from his thoughts and back to him. But then the two were the same, weren't they?

* * *

Light debated whether to say his lines now or leave it until tomorrow, eventually deciding that he had to do it at this point or his timing would be screwed. He and L had wandered in within hearing range of the end of a conversation.

"He's from Munich," Soichiro said, like it was the punchline to a joke.

"He's a eunuch?" Matsuda asked, bewildered.

"No, Matsuda, he's from Munich."

"Oh. I hear that it's nice there."

Light sighed. "I have a confession to make," he said.

"Does it concern where you were last Thursday?" L asked, a lollipop inserted in his mouth like a baby's dummy, puffing his cheeks out.

"Errr... yes, actually. I met with Astraea."

"What?" Soichiro blasted, but L didn't seem in the least surprised.

"Oh, Light, and you were so concerned about my visiting a cemetery when it seems that you can't even be trusted for a week alone without meeting up for tea with a terrorist organisation," he said.

"They knew that I was L's suspect. They approached me and I agreed to meet with them."

"But how would they know all that?" Matsuda asked.

L knew. Light saw it dawn on his face. "Why are you saying this?" L said, stupidly.

"L... Ryuzaki. V's alive," Light confirmed. L didn't respond, he just continued to stare at Light blankly. "She's alive, Ryuzaki, I saw her. I spoke to her. She was part of Astraea the whole time. That's how the infected letter got through your systems. That's why you didn't find her body."

"We saw her die!" Matsuda cried. He wasn't sure how to react and was the sort of person leaned naturally towards hysteria.

"It was a set-up with Hashimoto. Their plan was to shoot you. To shoot us all."

"Not you though. Because you're their Kira," L said, through a dark smile.

"They think that I'm Kira, so I took advantage. I did it so that we can take advantage of this."

"What do you suggest?

"I go in there with a wire, get the evidence on tape and then we can arrest them, of course."

"No, Light. I can't believe that you've been so reckless already. My God, they could kill you at any time," Soichiro shouted. He was begging for attention but it seemed that the only people involved in this conversation were Light and L.

"You saw V?" L asked, calmly.

"I recognised her voice."

"Who else did you see?"

"No one, not their faces anyway. They all wear black shrouds."

"How cunning."

"My God, Light. They have your name and face!" Matsuda exclaimed, the realisation hit him just a little later than everyone else.

"They won't kill him, Matsuda-san. They think that he's Kira," L said.

Light tilted his head as if slightly annoyed. "You knew didn't you? You knew that I had met with Astraea," he asked.

L smiled. "Yes."

"But how, Ryuzaki? What is going on here?" Soichiro said, desperately.

"He had me followed," Light answered.

"I didn't know about V though," L muttered. "That is a surprise. Forgive me if I don't believe you until I have actual confirmation. Your word doesn't carry much weight."

"Ryuzaki, how can you say that? Light has offered up his life for this investigation and you're saying that his word counts for nothing."

L looked at Soichiro blankly because the idiot father didn't have clue. He was completely blind.

"L, wake up," Light demanded, his tone dragged L's eyes back to his. "They were going to shoot you and V was in on it. Do you understand? She wanted you dead."

"Everyone seems to want me dead these days," L said, at last, reinserting his lollipop and stumbling off, leaving everyone stunned.

* * *

Soichiro and Matsuda had gone on time, as planned. Worried and shell-shocked, but they left all the same. Light found L in their bedroom, sitting almost normally on a leather sofa, only with his legs hitched up. Light sat next to him.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," he said, passing L a carton of some disgusting sugary liquid and a bowl of some stripy, neon monstrosities.

"I understand," L said receiving the offering gratefully. He was feeling a little low as the sugar ran thin in his bloodstream.

"No, I mean about V," Light explained, but L was silent. "It's just, if they suspected that I'm not who they think I am, or that I'm working with you then, well, they'd kill me."

"Yes. They probably would. They still might," L said, coldly.

"Ok, don't remind me. The fact is we have an opportunity to arrest them."

"And they just accepted that you were Kira. Just from V's word that you were my suspect? They didn't expect any proof of Kira's power?"

"No."

"No paper tricks?"

"What? No."

"Ah, I suppose you told them that you lost your powers when you were arrested by me."

"They didn't ask. They just presumed that that was the case, I guess," Light replied, picking at some old salad and not wanting to even be in the same room as it.

"How fortunate." L offered Light a sweet. Light put it in his pocket.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you about V," he said.

"That must have been awkward for you. I think I liked her better when she was dead."

"Don't you want to know what they said?"

"Maybe tomorrow,"L said, sadly itching the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry."

"And I'm tired," L said, lying back along the sofa as further proof of the point. Light took that as a valid reason to push away the wilting green shambles in the bowl.

"Let me?" he asked, eyes closing, his mind feeling slightly fried and disconnected. L obediently folded Light into his arms.

"You're not angry with me are you? I did it for you," Light breathed into L's chest.

"Please -"

"Ok. I'm sorry. I'm going to sleep now," Light said through a yawn. L smiled upon the crown of Light's head at his declaration.

The rain thundered outside and sleepiness was overwhelmingly heavy due to and despite of it. L was a calming weight around him but Light couldn't tell if he was going to sleep along with him, if he was just going to stay there holding him for however long, or if he'd stay at all. That was his last thought.

* * *

It was heading into the evening now, and there was a strange unnatural glow outside considering the time of year. He stood, rubbed his cloudy head as he staggered to the computer to check the CCTV. If L was with in Watari's room, then Light determined that he would leave him to it and go back to bed. But L wasn't in Watari's room. He was nowhere. Light blinked, trying to focus his eyes as his flicked through the screens, unable to find him. Sighing to himself, he looked mournfully at the sky before grabbing two coats.

The door to the roof bounced shut behind Light in the swirling maelstrom of weather. L's slender form could be made out in the distance, staring into the graphite skies all around them. Light pulled the peak of a hood down over his head, like a cowl, and bolted towards L. The rain was so heavy that he felt soaked as soon as he was exposed to it. The water was merciless, splashing and darkening his trousers as he ran. Once he reached L, it hardly seemed worth bringing the coat for him.

"You have to stop doing this," Light said, annoyed. His voice was nearly lost in the downfall. L turned and looked surprised to see him.

"I thought that I could hear something," he said, losing interest in Light and turning back to the nothing.

"No. No more bells," Light sighed. Ever since Watari had died, L had heard bells. Light pushed a coat hard against L's chest, like a punch. "Put it on." L looked down at the fist of oil cloth being forced upon him and looked at Light as if he were mad before turning away again, staring blankly at the cloud cover. The sky was a sweep of slate grey across the sky and there was a sallow hue to everything. Light draped the coat over L's shoulders aggressively, fastening the top button tight around his neck. "We have to go inside," Light said, insistently pulling L towards him. But L wasn't listening, it was like there was an orchestra playing and no one else could hear it. Light following L's eyeline, behind him, to the downpour, a whiteish sheet against the angry, boiling skies. "What is with this weather? Fucking biblical this is," Light muttered, disgruntled that he'd been brought into it as he tried to cup the hood of the coat over L's head. L batted his hand away and snapped open the button of the coat from its tenuous hold, letting it fall to the floor. Maybe it was a stupid idea after all. "You have to come inside with me," Light said firmly, shaking L by the shoulders. "Are you listening? Come inside with me or you'll get hypothermia and die. Or I will. Or you'll drown. We'll probably both drown." L smiled and Light wasn't sure if he'd meant it to sound funny or not.

"It feels like the end, doesn't it?" L said.

"We'll have to build ourselves an ark if this carries on -" Light broke off to a shuddering halt as L's hand grazed the inside of his thigh. Everything seemed more sensitive in the burning chill. Light curled a hand from its brutal hold on L's shoulder, around his neck, brushing a thumb tenderly against the slippy skin. He felt saturated, his body was throbbing against the deluge and for what he felt for the barely-there man. He pulled himself closer to him, complicit, and started, with shaking hands, undoing L's jeans.

L raised his eyes to Light's, trapped in amber. Light lunged at him, gripping his jaw, uplifting his head, kissing and punishing him. The air was too humid and dense. Clouds pregnant and oppressive with rain. L and Light were milky white and gauzy. The desperation to kiss made them cling on to each other. L swept his tongue into Light's mouth, while Light gently stroked and pressed his fingers, like teardrops, upon L's slick neck. L began tussling with Light's clothing, instantly irritated by them. He's never been a fan of how tailored and complicated they were to remove compared to his own utilitarian wear. Light swept his hands under L's soaked, transparent shirt. His nipples showed hard through the fabric which also held apart from the channel of his spine with a gorgeous shadow. Even in the flattest plains, there were curves, and Light would glance over them with touches like fragmented poems. Light ran a hand through L's hair, pushing it back and pressing his face into it, swimming in ink.

L pulled away to look into Light's face and saw hate there for a moment. Hate mixed with something unquantifiable. L's eyes fluttered closed and his grasp on Light's shirt grew weak. Light caught his mouth again with a forceful pressure, bringing him back, and groaned as L suddenly trussed his arms behind his back to remove his jacket. Now, with free arms, he shivered, insistently tugging at L's soaked, clinging jeans with the lust and competitiveness narrow in his amber eyes. L drew back, grey eyes flickering, searching within Light for answers. L descended, his bare feet islands in the flooded roof. Light convulsed with inhaling breaths but he yanked L's head by the hair, away from him, and sank down to the floor.

Drops trembled and fell from their fingers. Crystalline threads ran like rivers down their faces, glistening, and it was like they were grieving for something. They stared at each other as L submissively lay down in the cold water, eyes blinking from the pelting rain. Light rolled his jeans completely off his legs while L linked his arms around Light's neck. Light kissed him, his skin on his back was pulling taut and it felt like he was ripping apart, but it was pushed aside by the feeling of L's bare leg, hooked around him in encouragement. Light slid wet fingers into L, one at a time, and L released some little gasp of pain, like a wounded creature. Light gently pulled him closer, curving over him as they locked together. He shuddered and bucked against him, his chest heaving. He wrapped him close, trying to feel the touch of him across his whole surface while L buried his face into Light's chest and twisted red, raw, cold-bitten fingers into his lover's shirt. They heard their blood rushing like the water merging with the rain. Hungry noises tilting, jerking heads, fingers like talons in backs, and terrified at how close they'd stolen into each other's existence.

There was a silence like seabirds, and the silence spoke truth, but neither of them wished to hear it. L had his face pressed against Light's shoulder, shuddering against the internal ripping of souls which made his skin crackle. He ran his hand over the smooth skin on the back of Light's neck, under the overhanging collar of his shirt. L's palm pressed the downy hairs flat like the surface of a peach. The rain and sweat added a lustre to Light's skin and it shined like mother-of-pearl. Fingers ran beneath the shirt and passed over the warm spread across Light's back. When L pulled his hand away, there was blood on it, like before, but the rain washed it clean and it ran like pink veins down his arms. Taut muscles in Light's back strained under L's hands, reopening the porcelain-made oblique cuts from their loose, clotted hold as Light leant over him, he taking their weight on his hips and L taking their weight on his shoulders. L crushed his hand over Light's racing heart.

Scents like prompts, pelting rain, rhythmic longing of having and giving. Drifting memories, latent heat, and stratus clouds in their heads. It was a flexing fist grabbing a heart and squeezing the blood from it to fill it with its own. They kissed with charged tongues, and it was that night again. Hair smelling of dusky earthiness and bracken, silky and slick with rain. Skin like heather and almonds and the ravaged cliffs of their minds which they could taste through kisses. The hair was damp on their necks, clinging flat, as though painted. They dreaded the moment when they would hate each other with as much vehemence as the love that they felt for each other now. They wrote their own story. Light felt as if he were worshipping and was worshipped, and it seemed fitting.

And everything was water, heavy, pulsing, jagged, liquid, and slow.

* * *

_"Where is Yagami-san?" L asked Matsuda as a cup of heavily sugared coffee was placed before him._

_"He went out with Aizawa to get some lunch and some coffee. He said he needed some air. I think he might call in to see Light. It's weird, him not being around, isn't it? Light, I mean. Is he coming back on Sunday?"_

_"Yes. That's what he said."_

_"It'll be good for him to spend some time at home, anyway. To see his mother and sister. It means a lot, seeing your family. Kinda reminds you what you're doing it all for." __L eyes softened at Matsuda's unintentionally tender words. At first L put them in relation to himself, how he didn't have anyone, never did perhaps. He had no reminders. And then he thought of Light. __"Ryuzaki, are you ok?" Matsuda asked, concerned. He gingerly placed a gentle hand upon L's cold shoulder._

_L swept back to his computer suddenly, setting a range of images, various mug shots and prison reports to print. The whirring, disjointed noise of the printer starting up made Matsuda jump and spill a drop of coffee on his shoe._

_"Matsuda-san, may I borrow your pen?"_

_"Uh, yeah. Of course, Ryuzaki," Matsuda said, clicking the silver pen, a gift from his grandmother. It was engraved and it embarrassed him. He placed it into L's outstretched fingers. __L jumped up from his chair, taking the pen and grabbing the stack of printouts on his way out the door. __"Where are you going? Ryuzaki!" Matsida hurried after him, still carrying his mug of coffee, slopping it about as he ran._

_"I'm going to test something," L said decisively. They stopped at the safe room. Matsuda watched as L typed in a long, complicated string of code into the keypad at the side of the door to gain entry. He pressed his face to the scanner as the machine read his cornea and decided that, yes, it really was L._

_"The paper?" Matsuda exclaimed. "Ryzuzaki, are you going to test Misa-Misa's paper?"_

_"Quiet, Matsuda-san."_

_"Ryuzaki, if this works, what does it mean?"_

_The door opened and L walked decisively inside, followed by Matsuda, who still clutched his half-empty coffee cup. L spread out the printouts on the table and opened the combination safe in which the Death Note paper was held. He removed it from the plastic slipcase and laid a sheet on the table. He shook at the sight of 'Quillish Wammy' written in a clumsy, rushed hand on a ruled line. His teeth jammed together, his back tensed over the table and he felt hot tears blurring his vision before he dismissed them with blinking lids._

_L chose a face. A murderer of 8 college girls in Denver. He was scheduled to die the following Friday but he'd lodged an appeal, demanding a retrial, declaring new evidence. He wanted to act as his own representation again, joyfully interrogating and goading witnesses - the victims that he didn't quite kill - on the stand. With his intent to more pain and murder, he'd set his death back again._

_L wrote the name on the paper._

_"Ryuzaki!" Matsuda gasped. L almost laughed._

_"Matsuda-san," L said, shoving a international number and a pass code into Matsuda's hand, "Please phone Arizona State Prison Complex, quote the admission code and ask for the status of prisoner 019355."_

_Matsuda, stunned, put his cup down and dialled the number into his phone as requested. It took several minutes to get through to anyone who wasn't a machine. He walked to the corner of the room and spoke in a low voice using his slightly broken English. After a minute, he ended the call and turned to L._

_"He had a heart attack a couple of minutes ago. They're trying to resuscitate him now," he said, unbelieving. L exhaled._

_"Thank you, Matsuda-san. Please don't mention this to anyone for the time being," L said calmly, gathering the mass of sheets and locking them in the safe along with the Death Note paper._

_Matsuda didn't quite seem to know what to do. Paper could kill. Misa had killed all those people. Killed Mogi, Ide, Aiber, Watari. Now L had killed someone. He swayed for a moment before streaming from the room in a daze._

_L stared at the table for a few moments. His eyes drawn to his watch. Light's watch. He pawed at it, pulling it off his wrist and inspecting it minutely. He began decompressing the winders on the side of the dial, alternating, clicking a morse code of sorts. He held the timepiece close to his ear until he heard a thin crack from somewhere inside the watch. He opened the secret compartment, sliding the disc out._

_He found the paper._

* * *

**A/N** Long A/N, because.

So, for all this chapter, and for most of the last one, L knew. I hope that that little revelation might explain some of his babble and extreme actions over the last two chapters. Oh dear.

The "penis stuck in drive" is a true story, told to me by a friend. Only difference was that it was "Penis stuck in till".

EDIT: Thanks to **Maara Annika** for raising a very good point. You need to suspend your sense of reality for the above joke. It wouldn't work in Japanese (which Matsuda would be communicating in). Also, the "Munich/Eunuch" joke probably wouldn't work either. A lot of this fic just does not work in many ways.

And thank you, reviewers. :) Your words mean ever so much.

So, will Light's back ever heal? Will he die of sex-aggravated blood loss? Is L gonna cut a bitch? Again?


	17. Blades Engraved with Babies' Names

**A/N **Long chapter. I don't even know how**. **Before you all shout at me, I made Mello & Matt one year older than in the canon. This chapter rocks back and forth over time so I hope it becomes clear what happens when. Italics indicate flashbacks. In that, I mean months or years before the 'present' timeline. L and Watari's conversation takes place just before the LABB murder case and L and Light's little chat was during the L-drugged-out-of-his-tiny-mind fun time. Oooh, yay – dialogue. Much less painful to write than poetic sex.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

**Blades Engraved with Babies' Names**

_Cause when the firelight shocks like a cop shop pyre_

_We'll sack the politics for premonition and fire_

_And we'll move like Nureyev at night_

_Shines the lies of fine enlightened minds_

_Feel the steel that shines outside the blinds_

_Blades engraved with babies' names_

_While pylons hide the suicides_

Whipsnade ~ Suede

* * *

_"Watari."_

_"Yes, L?"_

_"Mello is not to know."_

_"Very well, but what about the LA case."_

_"I have someone else in mind who can assist with that."_

_"I shall pack. The flight is ready whenever you wish to leave."_

_"As soon as possible." Watari nodded his head once and began to leave the room. "Watari?"_

_"Yes."_

_L turned and shuffled towards him, staring at the object in the palm of his hand as he did so. He turned over the jet black stones, polished to a high sheen through thousands of such actions by different people's hands. The little stones spun like globes between fingertips. As he held his hand out to the gentleman, the crucifix fell from his palm and hung, suspended in mid-air. The silver rotated and caught the light. Watari looked into L's onyx eyes as the young detective gave him his final order._

_"Give this to him. Tell him that it was his mother's."_

* * *

Matt had just been spectacularly killed by a zombie riding a unicycle and he needed something to take his mind off it.

"Melloooooooo."

"I'm busy, Matt," a scrap of a boy grumbled. His hair was slicked back from the shower and he was wearing a damp, grey jersey tracksuit because there was nothing else.

"You're always busy doing absolutely nothing," Matt complained.

"So are you. You're always on that bloody piece of plastic. If you had put half as much focus into Wammy's as you do into those damn games then you would've probably beaten everyone else out of the ring."

"Yeah, yeah," Matt leaned his chair back precariously, waiting for more words, but Mello remained silent. "Mello, I mean, 'yeah' as in, 'please carry on'. I like it when you're nice to me and it hardly ever happens. Is it my birthday or have you taken something?"

"No. Well, apart from this chocolate which has marshmallows, gooey chocolate fondant stuff and rum in it. I fucking love Japan. I bought it from a guy who was actually dressed as a cocoa bean. You don't get that kind of shit in Winchester."

"No, you certainly don't. Sorry to point this out, but wasn't it an order that you were to stay here? Wasn't that a pretty firm deal? I remember the conversation going something along the lines of, 'Mello, Me Tarzan, you Jane. You stay here. Let the mountain come to Muhammad. The chocolate comes to you.'"

"I don't think I was ever in great peril, Matt. It was only a man in a cocoa bean costume and I've lived to tell the tale. I get cabin fever in here while you're running around doing whatever you do. "

Matt smiled at the half-disgusted face Mello pulled when Matt sat down on the leather sofa with a bare arse, followed by the full-on disgusted face Mello pulled when he realised that it bothered him.

"It's ok," Matt said. "It's a job anyway. Me and V, we're like The Krays. God, who am I kidding? It's cool, man! We're like the Crazy 88 except there's only two of us! Not that you're missing out or anything. Don't you like being a kept woman? Where are you going now?"

"I'm needed," Mello said, rummaging through a basket of washing for something wearable.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you! Now come back here and make me proud."

"No, I'm not your bitch. V sent a message," Mello answered, bluntly. He shook out some black cords and slipped into them while precariously trying to keep his balance.

"Oh for God's sake," Matt's head fell back.

"Come on, you might be useful. There's always a first time."

"Heh, useful," Matt exhaled. Meanwhile, Mello had found a skinny black v-neck jumper. There was an outfit in the making, he could feel it in his bones.

"Use your crazy skills for a good cause," he shouted over.

"Killing zombies is a good cause, idiot child," Matt said, disgruntled that he had to explain such a fact of life.

"Matt, they're not real."

"That's what you think because you're a dumb blond. I see it as a rehearsal."

"You think I'm a dumb blond because I have some trouble believing that zombies and killer dachshunds are going to attack everyone?" Mello called from the bedroom.

"They're not dachshunds, they're dobermans. Dobermans are kickass. Dachshunds are sausagedogs."

"Whatever," Mello threw a pair of trainers and trousers at Matt's stomach, sat down opposite him and started tying the laces of the winklepickers he'd found under the bed.

"What is it now, anyway?" Matt asked while closely observing what Mello was wearing what were probably the sexiest shoes he'd ever seen. They had buckles and leather and pointy toes and everything. "Those are the sexiest shoes I've ever seen," he said. What he thought usually just came out of his mouth after a short delay while he ran possible remarks through quality control.

"Thanks, and I don't know, she just says to get there asap," Mello answered, glancing up briefly. He reached back in his pocket for the phone and scrolled back through the inbox.

"I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't want you to be there. Hey, that's my phone! That's my message!"

"Yeah, who's Sadie, by the way?" Mello said, dodging Matt's outstretched arm with ease. Matt now lay prostrate across the table.

"I can't remember. Oi, don't read all my messages!"

"I can't understand her, it's in some kind of code. 'MATTY BOI LGNAF? 8 + 53X? 8PM OR ASAFP A3 MRMTYFTS BTWITIAILWU KK 3 SADIE x'" Mello looked at Matt expectantly.

"Ooooohhh...heh. Yeah. That Sadie. She's one of Astraea's secretaries; she works for that Mikami dude. He actually has his own secretary. He'd be so pissed off if he knew, he'd probably cry. He's always prissy, sitting at his desk like, 'I'm the king of you!' to everyone, and then Kira prances in and ol' Miki's literally throwing himself on the ground all, 'Take me up the arse, oh mighty one!' Bloody eejit. Ha, the way you read it out though. You sound like a prim school mistress from Hampshire."

"Does this actually mean something?" Mello was scrutinising the message like it was an ancient Greek codex and in it lay answers to the mysteries of the world.

"Text her back, 'WILCO', will you? Mello, what are you texting her?"

"I'm telling her to piss off in her own language," Mello smiled. Matt threw himself across the table again. Too late.

"No! Awww, Mell, what did you do that for?"

"Because she's an idiot," Mello said, simply, skimming the phone back across the glass table top.

"I guess you're right. Hey, Mell, where does L stand on the Astraea issue?"

"Wherever someone pays him to stand, I'm guessing."

"Hey, come on. Don't pretend that you don't think that the sun shines out of his backside."

"Like V said, we were all brought up to believe that. Put your kecks on, mate. Chop chop," Mello chivvied, throwing the trousers, which had been dropped on the floor, back towards Matt.

"Oh, 'V said'," Matt said, sulkily.

"What?"

"What V says goes."

"Matty," Mello sighed.

"I know."

"We were lied to."

"Well..."

"Matt."

"Yeah," Matt mumbled.

"Look, ok. I'm pissed off with L because he won't take my calls," Mello admitted. He actually sank back into the chair to support himself as he exhaled his woe. "All day. He phoned me yesterday morning but some guy started screaming at him about assassinations or some shit, so that was me cut off. He said that he'd call me back, but not a peep. I thought, shall I phone him? No, it looks desperate. But I was desperate, so I sod whatever remained of my pride, because God knows I didn't have much of that left, and I phone him. No feckin' answer. So, then I... yeah. I'm just pushed aside by everyone."

"Ah diddums. What do you want? Flowers?" Matt teased, which was apparently just what Mello needed to hear. He leapt up in his stunning shoes and slapped Matt on the knee as he did so.

"Shut up. Come on then, you lazy tart," he said.

"Urgh," Matt mumbled, cigarette in mouth, lighting up and pulling on his jeans at the same time.

"Car or bike?" Mello asked, his hand hovering over the two sets of keys.

"Don't ask me to choose. God, that's like asking if I'd rather be deaf or blind. Anyway, you're not going. End of. V would murder me if I brought you along." Mello's shoulders fell under the realisation. He looked at his stunner shoes that had nowhere to go.

"Yeah, I get it. No fun for me."

"I know it's bollocks, mate. I feel bad for you, I really do," Matt said, suddenly angry. "I don't know why we're here anyway! Bad shit is going to go down soon, Mell. Why can't we go back to Europe?"

"We'll always have Paris," Mello said, trying to be chipper. "Funny though, I had a dream about Germany the other day."

"Nah, not Germany again. You know that I don't know any German."

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't. All I know is 'Hello', 'I am a doughnut', 'I love you', and 'I have a snake in my trousers'."

"That's enough to get you around." Mello smiled as he watched Matt fight with his trainers.

"It's enough to get me arrested and become some prison guard's floozy. Nah. France I like."

"You mean you like French birds."

"Them too."

"Jeeezzz."

"They speak nice."

"I think their mouths were too full of spunk to speak to you, mate," Mello said. He had crossed arms and was standing by the door like an impatient housewife faced with but unconcerned by their other-half's infidelities.

"Mello darling, how slanderous. You have a jealous heart. You know that you're the only slut for me, I'm the only slut for you. It's the circle of life."

"Hmm."

"Kay, I'm off then. The joy of it all. Ooooh, hold on... where's me gun? Oh, don't worry, I was sitting on it. Hold on, bullets. Oh, it's ok, I was sitting on those too. Honey, can you do the dishes?"

"No."

"One of us has to and soon or those plates are going to sprout legs and walk."

"Bye Matty!" Mello beamed, falsely. 'Takeshi's Castle' was on soon.

"I don't know why I bother. More trouble that you're worth, you are. Oh, and, hunneh? Make sure that you make me steak for when I get back from work, woman. I want steak on the table the minute I walk through that door and then I want you and your shoes on the table once I've finished digesting."

Matt sauntered up to Mello and kissed him with an edge of sarcasm. It started out as nothing but then like most things between them, it snowballed and all of a sudden he was pressed up against a wall and Mello's hand was down his trousers. He thought for a moment how funny it was that he wanted the life everyone else seemed to have, while they spent their lives wanting to do what he did: running around with guns, hacking security, causing a fuss, generally being a naughty boy and being well paid for it too. He had realised, somewhere on the road between London and Bristol all those months ago that he wanted the boring picket fence. This was nearly it - as close as he could currently hope of getting to it anyway. Granted, they had no actual fence, the bathroom sink was blocked, their neighbours were horrible, and the landing smelt of piss; but he was the breadwinner. Here he was seeing Mello, the good wife, off at the door with a peck on the cheek and a good grope. Mello wasn't that good a wife, being a man and all, and was lousy at cooking and cleaning, but he was a marvellous whore and had fantastic shoes. In here he'd broken through the hard shell made of bitterness. Mello had it in his head that no one seemed to know his real value, but Matt knew. So lost in these little dreams as he was, Matt didn't notice Mello opening the door and the manoeuvring of themselves towards it until Matt was unceremoniously pushed outside into the hallway with the touching farewell of lovers the world over -

"Fuck off."

* * *

_L was in his drugged-up haze - boneless, pliable and very endearing. He was in the talkative stage which preceded his slip into a heavy sleep, after which he'd wake up with a dozy head and absolutely no idea of what had happened. There were gaps in his life stretching across days. His last real memory would be Light in front of him, Watari's cold body to his left, blue florescence and boiling blood and wanting to kill Light but not knowing how to. He would look at Light accusingly and be angry with himself for the shiver of happiness he felt for seeing him, despite everything. There was something he was supposed to do but he couldn't. He felt the hollow realisation that Light must be drugging him, and he didn't care because it felt like a kindness. Light would dope him up again slowly, throughout the day, and they'd repeat the whole cycle._

_When L slept at night, Light would purge the computers for information. He'd recently hacked into Watari's system to find that it had slightly more expansive information about certain things than L's did. He didn't want to stay in Watari's rooms for long periods of time, so he saved everything to his laptop and hid it. Light wanted to know everything, not least because he didn't know when these things would come in useful, but also because he had a thought that if he knew everything about L that there was to know, then he'd lose whatever fascination he held over him. Things would be easier then._

_Light knew about Wammy. L would babble on for hours until his tongue was swollen about Wammy, Wammy's House, his childhood, bells, graveyards, snippets of memories of being left in various orphanages across Europe, country paths in England, the smell of Victorian libraries, moss-covered stones, and nothing after that but crimes and hotel rooms. He'd talk about Light to Light, like he were another person who'd left the room for a while. He'd talk about Kira. He'd beg Light to help him because he didn't know what to do about Kira._

_L would hold Light as if he were the only thing stopping him from being swept into the sea. He'd ask him what he thought of the idea of giving Light a detective alias. Maybe if he gave him 'L', the best in the world, maybe then he'd be happy? Maybe if L gave up being a detective, Light would give up Kira? L was jealous of Kira, like he were another lover stealing Light from him. But then he'd speak lovingly about Kira because he was in awe of him. He hated him, he loved him, and he couldn't understand it. He would dream of living with Light somewhere in the middle of nowhere and finding something else to do, although what that would be didn't really seem to concern him. They'd never watch the news, never read the papers, and never talk to anyone else for the rest of their lives. Maybe as a treat they'd watch the odd wildlife documentary that L would veto first to make sure that it didn't include footage of any grisly deaths and gross unfairness against meerkats. Maybe that would be enough. Light said that they'd just be two old crazies collecting branches and doing terrible things to sheep, which was his way of saying that it really wouldn't work, whatever they did. L would shake with laughter and tears and they'd pretend that he wasn't._

_Every morning Light would look at him in a more adoring and hurt way when L came back. Every night he would wring the truth from him like water from a rag all the same._

_"L, wake up," he said, sitting in bed beside him, switching on the night light. L crawled slowly, eyes closed like a nocturnal animal, and buried his face into Light's chest like a pillow._

_"Nmmmm..."_

_"L."_

_"What is it?" L smiled when he saw him. His lips were pale but Light's were pink and plush and velvety soft when they brushed his skin. He wanted them on his skin. Weak fingers reached up for them but there was no muscle behind them and the hand fell limply back._

_"You were telling me a story," Light said, he smoothed down L's hair. He didn't want to be too brutal in waking him._

_"Was I?"_

_"Yes, about V."_

_"No."_

_"Come on, you have to tell me the story."_

_"No. Tired."_

_"I know, but you'll sleep better after you tell me."_

_"I shouldn't tell."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Secrets."_

_"No, no more secrets between us. You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine."_

_"I know yours."_

_"You think that you do. I'll tell you whether you're right or not."_

_"Really?"_

_"Really. You have to tell me yours first though."_

_"My name?"_

_"No. Don't tell me your name. Tell me about V."_

_"Why should I?"_

_"She's gone now so it doesn't make any difference."_

_"No, I suppose not. Are you there?"_

_"I'm here."_

_"Stay."_

_"I'll stay. Tell me a story, L. Here, sit up for me," Light said, dragging him up against him like a wounded soldier. L's head lolled and rolled as he protested. Once semi-upright, Light brushed back his his dark hair and kissed his clammy forehead._

_"Nononononononononono... oh. OK, it's not so bad," L grumbled._

_"L, don't you think it's strange that they never found V or Hashimoto after the fire? They didn't find any bodies. Do you think that they might still be alive?"_

_"The probability of that is... silly. Why would they still be alive?"_

_"Because they wanted the book. Remember the book?"_

_"I want cake, Light, but I don't think I'd be able to come back for some after I'd been shot in the head. Are you feeling ok?"_

_"I'm fine."_

_"I'm not. Could you get Watari, Light? I don't feel very well."_

_"Watari's gone, L. What do you need?"_

_"Oh, yes. They're all gone, aren't they?"_

_"We're still here. So, you don't think that there's any way that V or Hashimoto could have survived?"_

_"She was shot, Light. Blood everywhere. Fried up, and the book too. You were there. You big silly billy."_

_"I know. I was just thinking."_

_"Don't. It doesn't help."_

_"Let's talk about V then. There wasn't much on Watari's computer. Her file was pretty empty; there wasn't a name or anything."_

_"No, we never knew her full name."_

_"The file said that she was from the Ukraine."_

_"V. Wammy found her in the Ukraine. I don't know if that was where she was from originally because I never got around to finding out. I suppose I never thought that it was interesting. I bore easily and I hate Monopoly. We were always made to play Monopoly when the weather was too bad to go outside. Do you like Monopoly, Light?"_

_"I've never played it. So what do you know about her?"_

_"What do I know? Um, it was one of the first real exploitation cases Wammy let me work on. She'd been sold into sex trafficking and ended up in some basement in some house in... Where was it, Light?"_

_"It doesn't matter, L."_

_"Oh. I suppose it doesn't. It had a dodgy gas connection anyway. So, yes, she'd just had a life of abuse and it was October 1988. The gang that held her and some other girls found out that she was pregnant. They weren't too bright. She overheard a conversation between the traffickers discussing how to get rid of her. They were going to murder her and throw her in the river because she'd been made worthless in their eyes. It was easier to get rid of her. It always is."_

_"How did Wammy find her?"_

_"Well, she was 12 years old and she'd devised a plan to kill all the members of the gang at one time. Boom. Wammy liked that. No, maybe not 'liked', but it was the complexity and ingenuity of the assassination as well as V's admission that drew his attention. It was very clever, Light, what she did. Do you want to know?"_

_"Not right now. I just want to know how Wammy found her and what happened."_

_"Oh, OK. Wammy managed to have her put into his care. The authorities didn't know what to do with her anyway. She was fully aware of her actions and their consequences, even as a child. Her aim was to kill all those people. It was exquisite, just exquisite vengeance in it's premeditation and exaction and there was absolutely no regret. Not even at being caught. She handed herself in and explained how she'd killed them like it was something she was proud of."_

_"What about her child?"_

_"The child? When he was born he was put into care in another part of the building. It could have been another building altogether. I can't remember. I don't think we had any babies around then; he was probably the first. I can't think. But she didn't want him and never asked about his whereabouts or development. She only cared about her studies from the moment she arrived in England. She was especially talented in languages. Not as good as I was, obviously, but -"_

_"But she was criminal, L."_

_"I'm not stupid, Light. I wasn't blind to her - she was a dangerous criminal mind with an understandably bleak view of the world, but... I don't know, we all seemed a little like that. I could be naughty too sometimes. And we would speak Russian together and that was nice. You're very pretty you know, Light."_

_"Thank you, although handsome would be better. So, what happened to her then?"_

_"Well, it was decided that the best action, rather than rehabilitate the un-rehabilitatable, would be to harness and exploit what she'd she'd become. I suppose it was my fault. It's just another personal moral crime of mine since I was the one who suggested it. So what if she was a bit criminally insane?" he shrugged. "She was always good though. Completely without mercy. Later, when she worked for me, if I told her to kill someone then she'd do it. She didn't even have to know why. It was like having a very well-trained Rottweiler."_

_"With a gun."_

_"Yes, with a gun. Then she was sixteen and she began showing an interest in what happened to her child; asking for regular updates and wanting to see him and I don't know what caused that sudden interest but it was all she'd talk about. It was so boring, Light. You can't imagine. I suppose she must have seen him in a push chair or playing with lego, or, knowing him, beating up another toddler. Must have brought out all the maternal in her. So she started badgering people for information - Wammy, Roger, tutors, dinner ladies, but me mostly. Postmen! Ha, no. Whoever. We let her see him but she couldn't tell him or anyone else who she was in regards to him. Thems the rules, I said. Light, are you still there?"_

_"Yes, L, I'm still here."_

_"I don't want to bore you."_

_"You're not, but lay off the dinner ladies and postmen."_

_"Ah, okay then. So, a couple of years later, after A, she began officially helping me on cases. She was very skilled with explosives and firearms and infiltration, things like that. She made a lovely meringue too. She was just very handy really, and I believed that allowing her to see the child would keep her in line. When he was six, the boy I mean, V found out that he had been selected as a possible successor to the position of L. Did I tell you that I have heirs? They're not mine though, I'm not Henry VIII, they're just chosen and trained up like mini-me's. Anyway, she said that she felt betrayed. Veeeeerrrrry angry and unpleasant. Then again, she was generally, especially in regards to him. Ha, once, she found out that one of his tutors had smacked him for something or other, so she went all Incredible Hulk, chasing the tutor down and... well, he ended up in hospital. Most inconvenient. We have a hospital ward, you know? But, yes, she accused Wammy and I of 'grooming'. I mean really, Light."_

_"Terrible."_

_"I know! And she said that we weren't giving him a choice and that she didn't want that life for him. We argued and it was horrible and then she left. Or I fired her. I think it was a bit of both. She ended up working for MI6 and she'd only come back to visit him. Not even visit really, she'd just stand there and watch him pull people's hair. He was a brat. Still is. So yes, V went and we weren't speaking and I suppose that it was a loss. I'd come to depend on her for any covert ops and she made a very good rootbeer float as well, so I missed that. It was a bit like wrestling with a tiger sometimes though, working with her. She was always reckless. A nightmare actually. And then there was the case in 2002 with B."_

_"Who's B?"_

_"Ah, that's a whole different story. You killed him anyway."_

_"I did?"_

_"You did. Stop interrupting me when I'm in my flow, Light, it's very annoying and rude. You wouldn't like it. So yes, B was doing strange things and there was jam and little dollies and crosswords and bodies in Los Angeles. I asked V to help because, well, it was an in-house problem in a way, but she refused. She told me, 'I want a life outside what made us!' and I was so angry. Not so much at that, but because she was blaming Wammy for everything, to his face. He was very hurt by it, I could tell. So I withdrew all of her access, rights, and news. Then, for about a year after that, we just threw threats at each other. Or, rather she threw threats and I wasn't vaguely interested. She wanted her rights restored, I wouldn't allow it, and ultimately she couldn't do anything about it. She knew that she couldn't look after him because she was a murderer. She killed people for a living, she wasn't Mary Poppins. And Mello was always aggressive, even as a child."_

_"Mello?"_

_"I bet that you weren't, Light. You were probably lovely and everyone adored you. See, you never can tell. Anyway, a year after B, she contacted me and apologised. She felt responsible for B and the murders because she'd refused to work on it with me, and I suppose that she was right in a way. Maybe not. Although it probably would have ended a lot sooner. As soon as she saw B she would have blown his head off and that would have finished things nicely. He dressed up as me. Woooo, what a loon! Did you know that? No, why should you. But V blamed Wammy. She hated him and I loved him and..."_

_"Shhhhh."_

_"He looked after me."_

_"I know, but I'll look after you now."_

_"No, Light, this is all wrong. You're younger than me and I've tied you up on several occasions, and your brain is wonky, and you kill people for rightwrong reasons, and there's never been anyone like you, not ever, and I'm supposed to stop you because that's what I do, but I love you more than anything._

_"Wow. Even more than cake, then?"_

_"Definitely more than cake. Don't tell the cake though, it'll get jealous and bitter Oh dear. It's all very complicated, isn't it? So yes, the story. Um, that was that. With V, I mean. She was a freelance agent. Wammy must have talked to her and it seemed like she wasn't angry with him anymore, but of course she must have been because she avoided him like the plague. It didn't matter. I paid her to find Misora and you know the rest of the story."_

_"V's son, does he know?"_

_"No, still doesn't. She was absolutely forbidden to disclose who she was and it was strange because she never tried and there was a 78% chance that she would. There was a 82% chance that she'd attempt to abduct him and a 94% chance that she'd succeed. I even had building security strengthened on that basis. She messed up my percentages and she was just on the periphery like a satellite. So, you see, Light. I'm responsible for a lot of evil too, it's not just you. And I thought that this was going to be so easy. I thought that I'd just waltz in, catch Kira, and fly off with my swag of cash and a custard pie."_

_"I'll get you a custard pie later."_

_"Oh, thank you. Bless your heart, at least that's something. But what happened?"_

_"There's no reason for you to feel guilty about V. Just because Watari is dead doesn't make him a saint and the same goes for V. She died because she made a mistake."_

_"Light, that doesn't excuse what I did. You don't know -"_

_"That's stupid. You're just all martyr-like again. Joan of Arc, you are. You won't be content until someone sticks you on a pyre."_

_"Do you think that's true?"_

_"Yes, because you're a bit mixed up."_

_"Like a fruit salad."_

_"Yes, like a fruit salad."_

_"A bit like you."_

_"No, I'm fine."_

_"No, you are a bit fruit salad, Light. Really. Something went wrong. I saw it happen."_

_"No, I'm fine. We're fine. So is V's son still your heir?"_

_"Mello? Hmmm... I suppose."_

_"Mello? Is that his name?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"V's son."_

_"Oh! Yes. No. Well, he disappeared so I'm down in the heir department. Down in everything. V never knew that he disappeared. I suppose that's a good thing otherwise she probably would have killed me. It's sad that they never knew, isn't it? I can't make it right now. Why didn't I see this before she burned up?"_

_"What they never knew can't harm them."_

_"I wish I could tell you everything and listen to all the biased reasons you can come up with to excuse my actions and mistakes."_

_"I am biased. In a big way."_

_"You're the last person who should be. Ohhhh..._

_"What is it now?"_

_"Sometimes it hits me what a completely unsalvageable mess this it."_

_"It's a nice mess. It could be a little less devastating, but it's nice all the same."_

_"How's that, Fruit salad?"_

_"Because I love you and all that. That makes it a little less awful."_

_"I'm in love with you."_

_"That's the same thing."_

_"No, it's different. There's something about being in love, like it excuses the stupid. Ha, 'L, do you know gods of death like apples?' Something big hidden in something else, and you left bread crumb trails of dead criminals. You made your own death row and you spoke to me. What a love letter. I think I loved you then, albeit in a weird sort of 'I want to prosecute you' way. You're my favourite."_

_"Gods of death have red hands too, apparently."_

_"Oh yes, heee."_

_"You tricky bastard. I should have known from the moment I saw you."_

_"You're forgiven for not knowing. I wasn't wearing my Sherlock Holmes deerstalker hat so I wasn't advertising the fact that I was a detective person. That teacher overseeing the exam was so rude. What's wrong with the way that I sit?"_

_"It's just a little unconventional. Ha, and then your speech. I've never had to share a podium before."_

_"Your speech was boring and contrived."_

_"So was yours."_

_"Tell me. Tell me that I'm right," L said, reaching up, whispering the words, pressing them, hot against Light's face._

_"No, you haven't earned it yet."_

_"Oh no, Light, I can't. Really. I think that you did something to my back. Yes, you definitely put my back out. Besides, I'm very sleepy. I think I'd fall asleep half way through. I think that I might anyway."_

_"No, I meant that you haven't told me all your secrets."_

_"Uggghhhhh."_

_"L, promise me that you won't touch the paper."_

_"What paper?"_

_"Misa's paper. And... when you find it, just don't write on it. Get someone else to do it."_

_"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Misa had paper and I'm not supposed to write on it? Why would I want to anyway? I have my own paper. Hers probably has skulls and unicorns and silly things on it."_

_"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm sorry, I wish... No, don't worry about it. You're not all there."_

_"No, I'm not, am I? What did you do?"_

_"Nothing. Now, L, what are the real names of your heirs?"_

_"Don't make me tell you that."_

* * *

It was dark and still raining heavily when Mello turned up on the doorstep of HQ. He rang L's phone, and when it was answered eventually, L voice was hushed and annoyed. From their recent phone conversations, Mello thought that he knew L well enough to know that while sounding annoyed and rushed wasn't unusual for him, whispering definitely was. Mello stepped from foot to foot waiting for L's tall, if slightly bent frame to come into sight through the slightly tinted glass. When he did, he was wearing a dressing gown. Mello's confusion deepened, because somehow he hadn't expected that.

"You can't come in," L said, opening the heavy door slightly.

"Nice to see you too. You are joking, aren't you? I'm like a drowned rat here."

"Your chances are better out there."

"L, please," Mello said in a low, soft voice. "Just for a minute? I wanted to check if you were OK. You haven't answered my calls." He tried to remember how to appear winsome while L mulled his options over and eventually relented with a sigh.

"A minute," he said, but he looked far from happy to see him. Mello more or less ran in, dripping water all over the marble floors. L looked as miserable with his lot as though he'd been forced to admit a group of carol singers into his home.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Mello asked, placing his bike helmet on the floor.

"No."

"It's just, the get up." Mello said, motioning to L's dressing gown and bare lower legs.

"I wasn't expecting anyone. Keep quiet, will you?" he replied.

Mello followed him through the dim corridors until they reached a large office. L sat on one side of a chess board, it looked as if he was in the middle of a game. Mello sat on the opposite side and shrugged off his soaked jacket but his black shirt was not much better off and he didn't really feel the benefit. L's hospitality left much to be desired. There was no perceptible heating or lighting in the room apart from the dim glow from some news stations and a white screen with the familiar gothic 'L' which hung over a large desk at the far side of the room. Mello looked back at the chess board and his eyes glinted mischievously at the carved grotesque pieces. He moved a black knight to threaten a rook and L grabbed his wrist.

"Don't," he ordered, coldly.

"Sorry," Mello apologised, replacing the piece where he found it. "Are you really angry at me for coming here?"

"I wish that you hadn't."

"I was worried about you."

L looked at Mello with wide eyes that looked slightly haunted now, as if he couldn't quite believe that anyone would be concerned about him. Whatever it was, it knocked some manners into him.

"Can I get you something? I can make tea, just about. My coffee is apparently not fit for consumption," he said, drawing himself up from the chair.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mello answered, extracting a bar of chocolate from his bag and holding it up as proof. "Share?"

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure?" Mello looked affronted and shocked at the same time. From what he did know about L, which wasn't that much admittedly, he knew that it wasn't right that he had turned down something sweet. He felt like checking L's pulse but he settled upon the banal. "Well, this is awkward."

"Please be quick," L said, settling back down but looking more agitated with every passing second. "Did you just want to check that I was still alive? Because, I am. Or did you want to reminisce? In which case, I would suggest leaving it for another time."

"Why are you so nervous? There's no one around, that's what I figured. That's why I left it until now to check on you. I have this for you," he pulled a file of papers from his bag and handed it to L. "There's a disc in there as well," he added proudly. L glanced through the papers. Mello was saddened by how quickly his work was looked over. Then again, he had been half-watching Jerry Springer on cable while he wrote most of it, and it wasn't as if it was based upon real facts, so he shouldn't really be assured of the quality.

"If I hadn't opened the door, what would you have done?" L asked, with a therapeutic tone, still skimming through the pages.

"Bust in," Mello answered truthfully.

"Ah," L said, unsurprised. He rubbed his hand through his damp hair and Mello thought that he'd never seen anyone look quite so exhausted in his whole life.

"L, are you -"

"Near told me that his investigations into your whereabouts have come to nothing," L interrupted.

"Oh, him. Well, it's not surprising. He's a complete gobshite even with international police and government resources."

"Now, now," L cracked a hint of a smile.

"I thought you liked facts," Mello smiled back. He leaned back on the couch and debated taking his sopping wet and squelching shoes off, but didn't want to risk upsetting L further by making himself more at home.

"You shouldn't have come here," L reiterated.

"Why? How else was I supposed to give you this? You're harder to get a hold of than the Pope. You weren't answering my calls-"

"I was indisposed."

"I thought that something had happened to you," Mello felt increasingly indignant at his treatment. The 'long time, no see' starstruck, emotional buffer which had followed the immediacy of their meeting was fading and he was now receiving the full force of L's intense desire for him to disappear.

"Your concern was a waste of energy. So, from what I can tell, this file is simply a pile of nothing, the contents of which you could have told me over the phone in five sentences or less," L said, tossing the file next to the chess board.

"Hey, I thought you'd like to see that I'm just pulling this stuff out of my arse. There are no links I can find within the Yakuza so far."

"Then maybe Near isn't the only complete gobshite."

"I can't find something that's not there! Maybe they really aren't anything to do with Astraea."

"There was a link. If not now, there was once. They had to get their money within Japan through some means and it was certainly laundered through the Yakuza if not funded by them directly. Did you check with the ex-Hashimoto circle?"

"Yes, but a lot of them have gone abroad. I'll keep looking."

"Where's Matt?" L asked, as if he'd just noticed that Matt wasn't present.

"Asleep, I think."

"At this hour?"

"Yep."

"Gracious."

"That's Matt."

"I was under the impression that we prodigies did not sleep anything like normal hours. Although there are exceptions," he added mournfully as an afterthought.

"Matt's different," Mello offered as an explanation for all quirks. "Um, I hope you don't mind me saying this but, uh, you don't look so spiffy."

"Spiffy? How observant of you."

"Were you caught in the rain or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," L said, tugging in vain at the swamping dressing gown.

"It's just that you look a bit ill. Are you sure that you're ok?"

"I'm pale and interesting. You, in comparison, look like you have ransacked a sex shop. What is the reason for all that leather?"

"I like it. And I ride a bike."

"A bicycle?"

"Fuck no, a motorbike. Y'know, brum bruuuum. That's how I got here. I have a Ducati."

"Most discerning."

"I haven't seen you since... God, it must be years," Mello said, trying to sound vague, even though firmly planted in his mind, he knew the year, the month, the day, the time that he'd last seen L. It was his version of a Royal visit.

"Three," L supplied. Mello nodded.

"How is Watari?"

"Dead."

"What?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Wow," Mello gasped. It was inconceivable. Although Watari was as rare a sighting at Wammy's House as L was, everyone was aware that the old gentleman was the reason that they were there. For him to be dead was a shock, and to imagine L working completely alone, even more so. "I'm sorry to hear that. When did it happen? Are you on your own now?" he added.

"It happened in early November. It was quick and unexpected although I doubt that it was painless, for anyone. And no, I'm not alone in terms that I have a team of investigators, though I'm running low on them at the moment; they have a habit of dying. I might hire some more. Then again, I might not," L said, glancing behind towards the open door.

"I'll work for you. I'm looking for something -"

"Absolutely not."

"Ow, OK!" Mello recoiled.

"No, I'm sorry. I meant that the work you're doing for me in your current capacity is quite sufficient. Thank you." L did in some way sound genuinely apologetic, which appeased Mello slightly.

"No worries. So, Roger must run Wammy's now then, huh?"

"Roger has practically run Wammy's since I began investigating professionally. Speaking of, are you determined to leave your education unfinished?

"Ugh, yeah. Thanks. I mean, thanks for everything. It's not like we're not grateful but, um. The dinners were great and the tuck shop was ace, it's just, well, we got past it, I guess. Never look back and all that."

"Mmmm..."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Mello said, leaning towards L and trying to diagnose his problem just from looking at him.

"So you got past tuck shops and into gangland escapades," L deflected. "I suppose that it's just progression."

"L, you seem sad."

"You're confusing irritation with sadness. May I advise you to stick to your illegal activities? I don't normally agree with such pastimes but you seem much more suited to a life of crime. You certainly have the wardrobe for it, either for crime or the porn industry. In contrast, your talents as an investigator or psychiatrist leave much to be desired."

"Heh, yeah," Mello conceded. Throwing himself back against the chair heavily.

"And stay out of sight. Cover your tracks."

"I try."

"You better be going now," L said. Mello's eyes widened and in a rather panicked fashion began rooting through his bag to find something to buy himself a bit more time.

"Nah, look, I brought cake and shit," he said.

"Cake and shit? Sounds divine. No, thank you," L said, standing.

"Well, at least take some chocolate – here" Mello replied, desperately stuffing several bars into L's chest. L's eyes fell.

"You're wearing the rosary," he said, softly.

"Oh. Yeah." Mello muttered, self-consciously trying to slip the beads back under his shirt.

"I'm sorry."

Mello wanted to reach for him. He felt a wave of disappointed affection for his beaten down hero. He knew that he'd be sorry. He knew that it wasn't his fault. "Really?" he said, instead of blurting everything out.

"Very much so. I handled it all badly," L reflected, sadly, as if his whole life had been a collection of mistakes.

"Handled what badly?" Mello asked. He knew that it was dangerous ground. They shouldn't be talking about this at all.

"Everything," L said, loudly and in Japanese. "Isn't that correct, Light?"

Mello's eye was caught by movement behind L, at the doorway. He saw a tall Japanese man step out of the shadows. He couldn't have been much older than Mello himself. His features, that were distinguishable in the poor light, were rather finely sculptured, classical almost. His hair was damp, like L's was, but unlike L's it seemed to fall naturally into a rather rakish and charming drape over one eye. He was wearing pyjama pants and nothing else, which, to be honest, was the first thing Mello noticed about him. Detectives don't normally wander around in pyjamas while on the job.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Light said. The sarcasm literally dripped from his words. It crossed all language barriers.

"No you're not. Sorry that is. You're sorry that I knew that you were there," L looked to Mello, "You're leaving," he said, firmly. Mello didn't see any reason in arguing. He felt like he'd walked into a tornado. Grabbing his coat and bag, he left the cake he'd brought on the chair and immediately felt rather stupid in doing so.

"What am I interrupting anyway? Some midnight girly chinwag?" Light said pompously. He was leaning against the doorframe, apparently amused at having caught L out at something. His handsome smirk was unbearable. Mello wanted to call him out as a bitch right there.

"Go back to bed," L said to him as he walked past. Light's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms defensively. It seemed that being dismissed by L had a similar effect to what Mello imagined calling him a bitch would have. As he and L approached, he caught a glimpse of some rather angry cuts on Light's back.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Light asked, glaring at the Mello as he followed L out the room. Mello struggled to pull his wet jacket back over his arms as he traipsed after L's footsteps, aware that Light was following behind at a casual, assured pace, like a wolf cornering an intruder. Eventually L reached the front door again, he typed in a variety of numbers, handed Mello his bike helmet, opened the door and seemed very keen for Mello to leave. Mello felt an intense need to either shoot someone or apologise profusely.

"I'm sorry if I've -"

"Goodbye," L interrupted, decisively. "Phone calls from now on, please. Do not come here again. If you need to see me, and I mean a dire someone-will-die-if-you-don't-see-me need, not just a fleeting fancy to see how ill I look, I'll come to you."

"Um, I know it's none of my business but is he your -"

"Goodbye," L, unyieldingly. It was like he'd become a wall.

Mello glanced at Light who was a good distance off, a silent, oppressive bully. As he looked back at L, he wanted to shake out whatever it was that was making him submit to the horror in the corner.

"L, what are you doing with this dickhead?" he asked, in French, certain that Light would not understand. He didn't look like the kind who understood much beyond what skin products he should use and in what order.

"Get the fuck out of here," Light shouted. Oh. He obviously did understand. L inclined his face towards Light over his shoulder briefly before turning back to Mello. He didn't look as if he was going to defend him. If anything, he looked more likely to be backing up Light.

"It's not your place, y'know!" Mello protested towards Light as L started manhandling him out of the building.

"He lives here. Just go," L whispered with a final shove out the door, pushing Mello back into the rain.

Mello stepped back towards his bike. He was looking more than a little hurt, but no one was there to appreciate it. L had shut the door and was standing defensively with his back against the lock. Mello backed off enough to see the two men talking inside, like a silent film. L breezed past the man he'd called, 'Light', who tried to grab his arm as he passed. After L left, Light stared through the window with such intensity that it made Mello unconsciously back off, even though he knew that it was too dark to be seen. Shortly afterwards, Light followed L into the depths of the horrible, clinical building and disappeared from sight. Mello and his bike took out their aggression on the roads of Tokyo.

L grabbed Mello's file and turned suddenly towards Light as though his anger was a delayed reaction. "How much did you hear?" he demanded. "Oh, don't bother. It's not like you'd tell me the truth."

"Obviously I heard more than I was supposed to. Who is he? Who does he think he is? Calling me a 'boyfriend' and a 'dickhead'. Pffff."

"Well, your attitude is atrocious and that's me saying so, so yes, I sense the irony. As for the 'boyfriend', that's a fair assumption - look at the state of you, all déshabillé. Are you on your way to model for a life drawing class or something?"

"At least I don't look like Hugh Hefner during a dry cleaner's strike. Where are your pants?"

"Pants weren't my concern at the time."

"They weren't really mine either but I still managed it. I woke up, you weren't there, and then I heard voices downstairs."

"So of course panic ensued. I'd been stolen by the fairies and you had to search the building. I'm not welded to you, Light. There are no chains anymore."

"No, I don't know why I gave a shit about you either. Might be something to do with the fact that you're incapable of looking after yourself. Who is he anyway?"

"He's no one. He's just doing some undercover work for me."

"Is that a euphemism? He's a kid, L, and he's dressed like a rent boy. Do you expect me to believe that he's working for you? Do you make a habit of corrupting youth wherever you go or was I just lucky?" Light laughed as L scowled. "Ooooh! Did I touch a nerve?"

"You were different then."

"Not so very different though, eh? I bet you have a boy in every port," Light spat while setting his chess pieces straight again – the bastard must have moved them. His eye fell upon a white cardboard box, he opened it. "He's left a cake for you, you know? It looks absolutely disgusting, so he must know you very well," he said, throwing it on the ground, creating a rather Jackson Pollock-esque smear on the floor. L stared at the mess for a moment before stalking towards Watari's room, where he knew Light wouldn't follow. Probably. He began entering the lock code. "Your maturity astounds me," Light called after him. "So, your masterplan is to hide in there so you can avoid talking to me because I'm winning and you know it? Retreat! Retreat!"

"I'd like to know what you think that you're winning at."

"This argument, of course."

"You're not, there's simply nothing I want to discuss with you. Oh, and please refrain from trying to hack into my systems again to do some of your detective work. He is nothing to you and besides, there's really no point. You will find that you won't find the computers as informative as they were before you went away."

"So we're back there again then? The 'I'm going to rip your head off' part of our relationship?"

"You said it yourself, Light. This was never meant to last for long," L stated, walking inside.

"Please don't -" Light implored as the door closed.

* * *

A few hours later, Light was on the roof again. The rain had stopped long enough for him to make a phone call and there even seemed to be a crack in the sky where a shard of blue broke the monotonous grey.

"What went wrong?" V asked over the line.

"I don't know," Light lied. He was what had gone wrong. He'd played Astraea and L against each other, pointing out that Astraea's apparent line of attack was a distraction. He was just postponing things until he had control of them, because he had other plans.

"L?"

"No, it could be the SPK. They have a team who are focusing on disrupting Astraea's attacks."

"This is very disappointing," she replied. Light got the impression that she didn't believe him.

"Yes," he agreed.

"So, you're telling me that L has absolutely nothing to do with this?"

"Go after the SPK. There's someone called 'Near' involved. That's all I know. Can you find out anything about him?"

"Near? Is he working with L?"

"No, I said that L's nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, and I didn't believe that the first time I heard you say it."

"I don't have time for this," Light muttered gruffly. "Listen, can you meet me this morning?"

"Ha, how are you going to get away? Do you have a get out of jail card?"

"That's my problem. Meet me at The Hanover? Do you know it?"

"I'll find it."

"There's a men's bathroom on the first floor."

"Oh, that'll be fine. I'll fit right in in a men's toilet. So inconspicuous."

"Just meet me there. I'll get there around midday."

"Don't forget your answers. Everyone is hopping mad here, literally hopping. Between you and me, this 'L has nothing to do with it' thing is not going to fly. They're out for blood, although personally, somehow I'm not surprised that nothing went to plan."

Light ended the call abruptly. His eyes scanned the water-logged, glasslike roof top and his reflection in it, and the soaked, crumpled white t-shirt on the floor.

* * *

Matsuda, Aizawa and Sochiro arrived back at HQ to find Light waiting for them outside the office. He and Ryuzaki had had a disagreement, he explained, which was hardly a shock. Ryuzaki had locked himself in Watari's suite and Light was desperate to leave the building. He wanted to go anywhere, he said. He just needed to get out, but he'd waited until they'd arrived so someone could stay in case Ryuzaki decided to come out of his self-enforced isolation. Poor Light looked so battle weary and dejected that everyone thought that it was a good idea. Soichiro suggested that Light go with Aizawa and Matsuda while he stayed behind with Ryuzaki. Light brightened considerably at the idea, because it was what he wanted, and Soichiro was hopeful that perhaps this was the beginning of the end of Light and Ryuzaki's... whatever it was. And so began Light's little excursion into the big wide world. They called into a coffee place first where Matsuda enthused about the hotel Ryuzaki had installed his family into. From there, on Light's suggestion, they went to The Hanover to pick up a patisserie order for Ryuzaki which Light wanted as an olive branch. While they waited, Light announced that he was going to have a look around the building. There was a gallery upstairs he'd always wanted to see.

And five minutes later, at 11:50am, he groaned as he saw a red-headed boy propping up the wall near the men's bathroom.

"'Elo, chucky egg. Welcome to the château," Matt said, puffing a cloud of smoke into Light's disgruntled face.

"You again," Light muttered, waving the smoke away with one hand.

"Yep. Live and in person. So, you've come to talk with one of The Black Crowes again? Don't think much of their outfits, eh? She didn't get dressed up for you today, mate, though I see that you did." Matt drew himself upright and started patting down Light's legs.

"What are you doing?" Light exclaimed, horrified. He batted the interfering hands away.

"I've gotta search you. You could be wearing a wire."

"And why would I be wearing a fucking wire, you idiot? Do I look like I have some deep need to incriminate myself and get arrested? Do you think that I'm taping my conversations with you so that I can live this moment over and over again from the comfort of my own armchair? You are not touching this jacket."

"Cool it, pretty Gucci piggy boy. It's not required, I'm just suspicious by nature. I'm a techy, what can I say? It's a nice jacket. Do you actually press your suits? What are you, sixty?"

"I'm losing the will to live here. Just show me in already."

"Sure thing, luv. We were just waiting for the fifty-four bloody trombones to play 'The Imperial March' from _Star Wars_ as a fanfare for you when you make your entrance, but I guess that you can go ahead without them if you'd like. Oh, one more thing."

"What?" Light sighed and then let out a rather inelegant 'ooof' sound as Matt pressed him up against the opposite wall of the narrow corridor. He cocked a revolver and held it under Light's eye.

"I know you're Kira or whatever," Matt said, in a low tone. "This is me impressed. Doesn't change the fact that if you start any funny business with her, I'll shoot you through the fucking wall. I'm quicker than you and your little diary of death. Ok?" Light glared and emphatically wiped Matt's hands off his person. "OKAY!" Matt exclaimed cheerfully, opening the door wide which revealed a shockingly white tiled bathroom and V, starkly black, leaning against the window with her arms crossed. "After you, princess," Matt directed Light in with a bow. An older gentleman approached, trying to follow Light into the bathroom but Matt barred the door with his arm. "Sorry, this one is occupied. Try another floor," Matt winked and locked the door behind him. The scandalised man scurried back off down the corridor.

"V," Light said simply in greeting.

"Nice of you to join us. I love your rendezvous ideas. It stinks like an army barracks. Men," V rolled her eyes. "Do you actually use those urinals or just aim roughly in that area? Michelin starred restaurant, my arse. It's disgusting in here."

"Why did you bring him?" Light asked.

"Because I've been longing to see you, darling," Matt said, dramatically.

"I brought him for company," V breathed out, exasperated. "I'm starting to wish that I hadn't. I couldn't trust him to stay in the car."

"It's probably just as well. He might be useful," Light conceded. Every cloud has a silver lining.

"How are you sure that L is not having you followed at this very moment," V questioned with a smile.

"L's not terribly fond of me right now. He doesn't care where I go or what I do."

"However did you manage that?"

"Pssssh. Anyway, you know that Aizawa and Matsuda are downstairs. You had a car tail me."

"Two cars."

"Always thorough. Are they still outside."

"They're around. Why are you so bothered about it?" V asked, suspiciously.

"I just like to know the situation, that's all."

"Oh, we've both learned from L, have we not? It's also fortunate that we both know how he works."

"Indeed. Imagine what we could achieve."

"You say that as if L is the key to the mastery of the world which, frankly, is ludicrous."

"Perhaps he is."

"Perhaps to _you_ he is."

"Don't you have someone to care about, V?" Light smiled with a snide sympathy, as if V's unhappy heart had been a great concern of his for some time. V couldn't tell if there was some hidden meaning in the question but thought it likely that there was. Her hackles rose.

"I don't know whether my definition of 'care' is the same as yours. You seem to hover over the crossroads between love and hate, whereas for me they are two separate feelings altogether."

"I'm sorry, but why are we talking about fluffy feelings? We don't have that much time here," Matt said while fumbling with an air freshener.

"Someone tried to shoot L the other day," Light stated, dreamily.

"What?" Matt gasped. Light's head spun to stare at him thinking that it was another sarcastic comment which would betray his complicity in the plot. However, Matt looked genuinely shocked.

"I'm sorry to hear that," V said, calmness itself.

"Someone tried to assassinate him the day before I told you expressly not to go anywhere near him." Light began prowling around the extremities of the room towards V.

"Again, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm guessing that you think that I had something to do with it?"

"Spare me. What interests me is who would want to kill L?"

"Would you like a list? It would be like the _Domesday Book_."

"Someone knew where he was. The sniper knew him on sight and was aiming for him. I would have been very upset if something had happened, and I can't help but feel that he thinks that I'm the one behind it." Light was only a few feet away from her now.

"Well, excuse me but I don't think I need to be an agony aunt to your love life," V said, curtly.

Light smiled before lunging forwards, gripping V by the throat and pinning her against the wall. Her arms were inert by her side, but tense, ready for the moment when a line was crossed, or maybe she was truly too frightened to do anything.

"Woah, get your hands off her!" Matt shouted, rushing towards Light

"It was you, wasn't it?" Light hissed into V's face. "You tried to kill him!"

"I'm sorry, Light," V said, quietly.

"Not going to cut it, V. I thought that you didn't want to kill L."

"I don't."

"If you touch him, I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you."

Matt cocked the gun. The smooth metallic click hung in the air. "I warned you," he said, putting the gun within Light's eyeline. Light and V stared at each other for a moment, as if speaking telepathically. At length, V broke the silence.

"Put the gun down, Matt," V was cool and precise, speaking without looking at him. Her voice rolled slowly over the words like water on dark fruit.

"No. Way," he answered. He had a perfect shot, absolutely pristine. He could end the whole thing then and there.

"I said, stand down," V repeated, turning her face towards Matt as best she could considering Light's ruthless grip upon her neck.

Matt hesitated before lifting the barrel of the gun to the ceiling and stepping back towards the wall again. "I'm not leaving, Kira," he said. "Just remember, I'm standing in the corner with a gun and an uninterrupted view of you. After I've blasted your brains out, I''ll be sure to put whatever remains of your face in the sink. Maybe someone could piece it back together."

"Let go of me," V said, turning back to Light.

"If you try something like that on L again, I'll destroy everything you have ever touched," Light warned. "I'll burn it. Believe me, I will remove every trace of you, and then I'll kill every person who ever saw your face. Anything you leave behind -"

"Are you finished?" V asked, unconcerned.

"Yeah, bored here," said Matt.

Light released the tightness of his hold on her. V's eyes looked murderous. She clawed within her pocket for a metal case, extracting and lighting up a black cigarette.

"That action was taken without my knowledge," she explained through a veil of smoke. "You'd know if I'd been involved because L would be very much dead. I wouldn't have sent an imbecile to do the hit. Not knowing your arse from your elbow seems to be quite a common affliction at the moment."

"Who ordered it?" Light asked.

"He's been dealt with. The gunmen have been dealt with too."

"I know that. L's got their bodies in the morgue. You better not be lying about this, V."

"Why should I? I don't want L dead but you and I must both see that there is very strong argument for it. He is a threat that we cannot afford and has disrupted our plans an enormous amount. This is a critical -"

"No, the critical point of this alliance is hinged upon the assurance that L is not to be harmed."

"I understand that but apparently the people concerned in the assassination attempt didn't. My apologies... Kira-sama."

"Oh purleeeease," Matt groaned from the corner.

"Who organised the hit," Light demanded.

"I assure you that they have been dealt with. It was a personal contrivance. The individual in question was made aware of the bounty upon L's head. He was attempting to collect the money for his own gain. It was completely unrelated to the Great Work."

"Names, V."

"I don't know their names. Truly. Those within the group don't have names unless they're incredibly stupid."

"This whole little plot just shows what unscrupulous people make up Astraea. It's Hashimoto all over again."

"Reconstruction work is a costly business. We also wanted to ease the tax burden upon the people."

"So you'd let anyone in with a fat wallet?"

"That person was an exception. Astraea is a dedicated and selfless force."

"It is unfortunate that the evil of human nature still can hide within the rushes."

"Then we must stamp it out," V smiled.

"Well then, shall we make a start?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I need out from under L's nose. He's not just going to let me walk out of there without having me followed."

"Tricky tricky," V agreed.

"So Astraea will kidnap me."

"Go on."

"My plan is that I drop hints to Matsuda that I've managed to make contact with a disillusioned person within Astraea. I'll leave notes on my laptop for L to find after the event which will suggest that I had arranged a meeting and that the contact promised to disclose information about the key players of Astraea – names, locations, everything. Of course the task force will recognise that I couldn't feel as if I could tell L or my father because they wouldn't let me do anything dangerous, blah, blah. So it'll look like I met with you, in a similar scenario to this and, shock horror, it was a trap and I get kidnapped as one of L's team members to hold to ransom. That's why I asked you to meet me, because you'll kidnap me. You. That way I could be a little more assured that it won't go wrong if one of your inept flunkies met my inept flunkies."

"L will come down on us like a tonne of bricks if we do this."

"Don't worry about L, I'll keep him occupied. I'll send him clues heading off in the wrong direction."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy when you know how."

"You'll trip up one day Light. I don't believe for a minute that L won't see past your little lies eventually. He'll find you. He'll find us."

"That's a matter of opinion."

"I'm sorry, but didn't he find you before or did you simply volunteer to be put into confinement and handcuffed to him for some S&M jolly?"

Matt breathed out his disgust. "No details please. I want to keep my lunch in my stomach," he called over.

"That was then," Light replied, ignoring Matt. "Now it's time. We're restricted while I'm with him."

"I would have thought that it would be useful to have someone on the inside of the task force."

"It has been, but we're past that now. To go forward, something's got to give. Anyway, there's someone else as well he's talking to. I don't know who it is – it could be one of your lot who's gone spy. He turned up in the middle of the night for a chat with L. Some blonde European teenager with a bike and leathers. They spoke English and I didn't hear the whole conversation between them, but they seemed pretty friendly. Ring any bells with you?"

"It's nothing to do with Astraea, that's for certain. We don't have anyone fitting that description so it's probably some lad that L has hired as a courier," V said, stubbing out the remains of her cigarette and throwing the remains in a toilet.

"I was in two minds whether to stay in HQ a little while longer and find out who he is."

"Doesn't sound like anything to be concerned about. L has always employed outsiders for ferrying information back and forth. Do you still want out?"

"Might as well," Light sighed.

"A bit of escapology. My favourite."

"Well, you are quite good at it."

"Thank you, Kira. What a compliment from perhaps the ultimate escape artist. You realise that it's all smoke and mirrors though? It's all lies and L will know that. So, when would you like this to happen?"

"Tomorrow. I don't know what time yet, I'll call you. Probably the evening. You choose the best place."

"Fine. Phone me with a time and meet me here. I'll kill the CCTV between the back of this building and the docklands. We'll move from there."

"What? Just walk out of here hand in hand? I don't think so."

"Ah, you want some shock and awe?"

"Just a bit. Otherwise L might think that I have just eloped with Astraea after a chance meeting in a men's toilet."

"Does it really matter what L thinks?"

"Of course it matters what L thinks. He can't have a clue what's going on."

"It looks like he knows a little too much anyway. I'm supposing that he had something to do with the falsifying of the personnel records, whether it was with the SPK or not, no matter what you say. No, Light, you just don't want him to think badly of you."

"He already does."

"Well, you made your bed, Kira. Matt, get the car."

* * *

"Hey," Mello said sleepily, pushing himself up from the chair. He was starting to think that he'd been glued to it. Matt strode past him, ignoring him with a face like thunder. Very angry redhead. Not good.

"Matt?" Mello tried weakly as Matt slammed the bedroom door. He turned to V who had followed Matt inside.

"What are you playing at?" she said.

"Eh?" Mello asked. He checked the vodka bottle - It wasn't empty so he wasn't dreaming. There was very little he could have done sitting here for weeks on end, watching day time TV. Unless...

"Going to see L in the middle of the night. Going to see L full stop." V's tone was sharp. He could see his face in hers.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"How did you find out?" Mello asked. Bloody know-it-all spies.

"Never mind about how we found out. Your dealings with L are strictly to be held indirectly. I thought that you understood that."

"He wanted a report on the Yakuza investigation. I was just dropping it off to him."

"It was stupid. Listen, when I say something, when I tell you that under no circumstances are you to have a personal meeting with L, it's for a reason."

"Yeah, but I don't see what the problem is. You wanted me to be in contact with him."

"Contact, yes. Calling in for Sunday lunch, no. Mihael, he's living in what is, in essence, a really poorly staffed Pentagon, and he's working with the SPK. He has members of the NPA working for him. Do I have to go on? I thought that you would have been taught this kind of thing when you were two years old."

"Near is working with him?" Mello said, outraged. He thought that they were just in a vague kind of contact so L could keep tabs on His Uselessness.

"Yes. Now, do you think it's a good idea for any of them to know about you? Christ. Just don't, never again, visit him. It's not safe. Do you understand?"

"Ok, ok. I'm sorry."

"I want you to stay out of sight for a few days," she stated. Heartlessly business-like again. "Don't think that I don't know about the chocolate run you take every day. No more of those. I'm having you and Matt moved somewhere else since this place is compromised now. Until then, just stay here and don't bother Matt; he's trying to wipe any street camera footage of you from last night."

"Matt didn't know. Don't blame him," Mello muttered.

"I know that he didn't have a clue, he was as pissed off to find out about it as I was. Please do what I tell you. I know it's annoying but I wouldn't suggest it unless it was absolutely imperative. I need you to do this for me. You worry the heart out of me and I'm too old to be worrying about wayward teenagers."

"I didn't mean to worry you." Mello found himself unconsciously pouting.

"It won't be for much longer. I promise." V approached Mello, smiling reassuringly. "Just be patient for a little while more and then you can do anything. You can have a parade if you want," she straightened the rosary upon Mello's chest. "I'm sorry, darling, believe me. Just please, please, no more guest spots, ok? Now, nobody saw you but L, is that right?"

"Nah," he answered, lowering his face to the floor. When he lifted it up to V again, his eyes were obscured by blonde, feather-like streaks. "It was just L. I didn't mean to fuck things up."

"You haven't," she said stroking his hair out of his eyes. "Do you boys need anything?"

"No, we're fine. Thanks."

"Sure? Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"Are you leaving?"

"I've got some things to sort out. When Matt's finished, can you ask him to call me? I have a tech job for him. Tell him it'll be triple time," she said, offhandedly again, reverting back to a corporate tone. She turned to look in a mirror by the door as she buttoned up the high neckline of the black jacket which enveloped her. Her face looked like it was floating in mid-air. Mello looked at himself standing behind her in the mirror, his eyes trying to keep both of them in focus at the same time. V caught his eye in their reflection, and she smiled tenderly.

"I'm good with computers too," Mello said defensively. And God, why did he sound like such a child?

"I know." Mello watched as she tied back her hair. It was nearly white, with darker ash-coloured strands running through it underneath. It wasn't cold like Near's; it glowed and shone warmly under harsh lights. Mello's own hair was straw coloured and he wished - more than anything at that moment - he wished that his hair was like hers. He wanted something more that belonged to her.

"Can't I go with you? You're here now. I don't understand," he said.

"Believe me, it's for you," V answered. She reached down for her bike helmet which would hide her face from him, from the world. He didn't want to lose her.

"That time," he rushed, "I remember you. It was you, wasn't it?" V paused, which was exactly what he wanted her to do.

"What do you remember, Mihael?"

"You were with L."

"Yes. And you ran up to me and asked if he really was L," she smiled bitterly. Mello couldn't move, so she came to him.

"You cried," he said, his voice cracking. V reached a slim hand behind his ear, cupping his head, he leaned into it. "Why did you cry?"

"For the same reason which lies behind everything. You were the most perfect thing that I'd ever seen."

* * *

"Matt?"

"Later. I'm busy Mello."

Did I fuck up in a massive way?" Mello said his hand looped around his rosary, glancing blows off the black stones as he bit chunks out of a chocolate bar.

"Kinda." He looked up at Mello's undulating lines and the lazy, mournful way he leaned upon things, and whatever anger Matt felt dissipated like a breeze had blown it away. "Nah," he relented. "But you could have done. You like to keep us on our toes, don't you?"

"It might help if I had the faintest idea what's going on."

"Serious stuff is going on, Mell, with some seriously messed up psycho killers so you have to stay out of the way until it's sorted. Y'know, 'cause we love you."

"But I was only seeing L," Mello said, balancing on the arm of Matt's computer chair. With a swift movement he lifted his legs up and planted his feet onto the opposite arm. He was practically sitting in Matt's lap, only he wasn't. He was preventing Matt from working.

"L's not Father Christmas, Mello."

"He had some guy there," he said, chewing and pondering over some chocolate.

"What? You saw someone?"

"Yeah, some pretty boy. All attitude and no trousers. No shirt either come to think about it. Do you think he's his boyfriend? I mean, one in the morning, they're alone and he seemed kinda pissed off that I was there in a jealous kind of way. Strutting around like a Chippendale. Berk."

"Jesus, Mello. Does V know that you saw him?"

"About L's boytoy? No, I thought she was going to get a belt out to me because she was so pissed off. So, I... neglected to mention it."

"You mean that you lied. She's worried about you," Matt said, laying his chin upon Mello's bent knees directly in front of him. "She's not the only one. Why can't you just stay here like anyone else would? Just watch shitty TV and sleep and pretend that you're on the dole."

"Don't tell her."

"I'm going to lose track of what I shouldn't tell who, the way things are going," Matt mumbled.

"Good lad," Mello raked a cheerful hand through Matt's hair. "I love my mother, but sometimes I think that it's just because she's my mother. I don't really know her, I hardly see her."

"She has kind of appeared out of nowhere."

"Yeah. I'm not sorry that she has, it's just weird. I don't want to piss her off."

"Because she's a bit trigger happy?"

"No, because she's my mother. I don't know how to be a son, let alone the son she wants me to be."

"I don't think she wants you to be anything other than who you are. She just doesn't want you to be hurt."

"But it's ok for you to be going on all these 'dangerous' missions with her?"

"Obviously. I'm not her son, am I? God, imagine if I was as well! We could add incest to our crimes."

"Why do you go along with all this?"

"I guess that I'm not very bright. I wasn't third in line as L's successor for nothing! Anyway, tell me what happened with L."

"Ah. Well, there I was, with a cake which L didn't want and I'm not surprised because it was soggy and was from a 24/7. Then this pretty boy turned up out of the shadows like Freddie Kruger, only kinda attractive and practically naked. He was pissed off that I was there, and L was pissed off because I was there, and he and the pretty boy were bitching because the pretty boy knew that I was there. So then I got thrown out on my arse in the bloody pissing rain in the middle of the night. I get back here, you're still asleep, my clothes are soaked, and my only friend is vodka. Now you're pissed off with me, she's pissed off with me, and I don't know what the fuck is going on. I can't help but wonder why I bother. I hate not knowing Matt. I feel like a complete idiot. This must be what it's like to be Near, only I'm much better looking," he laughed.

"That must be some consolation." Matt said, throwing his arms over Mello's legs, leaning on him like a fence.

"I just feel like some simple kid who keeps getting sent to his bedroom while the grown-ups talk."

"I know. If it helps, I wish that I didn't know anything."

"Swap places?" Mello said, hopeful.

"Not going to happen, boyo."

"His name was Light," Mello said suddenly, like the name had just come back to him.

"Huh?"

"That's what L called him. The bitchy boyfriend, I mean. What kind of a fucking name is that?"

"Maybe that's his stage name. Maybe his parents are hippies. Who cares? I'd forget about him, kid."

"Matt?"

"Yes, Zaubermaus."

"What is Kira like?"

"Mello."

"Come on."

"No, you know what V said, and strangely I actually agree with her. It's better if you don't know."

"Why?"

"I'm impartial. I really don't care what these fucktards do. I mean, I like your mother, Mello, I do. I'm a big fan of your gene pool. But I really don't like what she's involved with. This is crazy Nazi town. It's lost the plot and she has too."

"It'd be a lot more fucked up without her."

"Maybe. She doesn't seem to be quite as nuts as the others. But, Mello, she's still nuts and this is wrong. All of this is wrong. Bringing Kira into it is pulling the pin out of the grenade. I'm easy, y'know. I'm happy as long as you're around and I've got a fridge full of Stella, but I'm not batshit crazy. You knowing about Kira would be really bad, so don't ask me. The only thing I agree with in this whole thing was her asking you to get in contact with L, and now I'm not too sure about that now."

"Why?" Mello asked. Matt looked troubled as he searched for an answer which had a tiny bit of truth in it.

"Well, he's not exactly breaking his back in slinging Kira in the slammer is he?"

"He didn't look well. Oh, and Watari's dead."

"What?"

"Yeah. Wammy died and L looked like shit. He just wasn't like how I remember him."

"Wammy's copped it, eh? Jeez, poor guy. Poor L. Well, he always looked kinda shitty but if he looks worse then it's probably because he's cut up about Watari and... um, he thinks that your mother's dead and that it's his fault. And somehow he's responsible for you turning out to be a criminal mastermind with amazing dress sense. He must be crying himself to sleep every night. Besides, maybe he's tired from shagging his boytoy. Who knew, eh? I thought that super detectives had all of their libido blasted out of them."

"He said that I looked like I'd robbed a sex shop."

"Ha. So true. Good ol' L. Anyway, tough times trying to catch Kira. He's shady, that one."

"I wish that they'd just kill him."

"Pardon me?" Matt looked up at Mello questioningly.

"Kira," Mello said. "I wish that Astraea would just kill him."

"Yeah, me too. No chance of that though. They're all, 'We're not worthy! We're not worthy!' all over his arse."

"I can't imagine V being like that over him."

"Ha, well, she called him 'Kira-sama' today. She looked like someone had shoved some dog shit down her throat as she said it, but she said it all the same. They have to keep him sweet, I suppose. I think she agrees with Kira, she just doesn't like Kira himself, if you know what I mean."

"He's bad news."

"Yes, Mello, he is. Which concludes our tour of why you shouldn't know about Kira."

"But-"

"Mello, I love you. V loves you. We're both pretty clever people. We're not curing cancer, but we're pretty good in the noggin department. So are you, but you also have this element of residual stupid knocking about. Two against one say that you don't know about Kira. He's not gong to know about you, ever. You're going to keep the hell out of his orbit and as far as he's concerned."

"Ok," Mello threw chocolate wrapper in the general vicinity of the waste paper basket, and missed.

"That's ma boy," Matt smiled. "So, L?"

"He's spoken to Near. Near's a fuckwit. The end."

"I remember that story!"

"I mean, for God's sake, Near's got an SPK unit dedicated to doing whatever his stupid head thinks of and he can't even find lil' old me."

"He should just hang around the chocolate shop for a few hours and then he'd find you. I've never been so grateful for his incompetence. What else?"

"Nothing really. L was just kinda sad. I brought him the soggy cake and I have no idea why now. But no, he didn't want it, so I gave him my chocolate and that made me sad."

"You gave him your chocolate?" Matt's world was spinning off its axis.

"You didn't see him," Mello explained. "He was all squished up and cute-looking and sad. And he was wearing a dressing gown. He has legs!"

"He has legs? L is cute-looking?"

"In a poorly bush baby way, yeah."

"Times certainly are achangin', eh?"

"I wanted to tell him, Matt."

"Oh noooooo."

"I know."

"No way. You see, remember when I was talking about the residual stupid in you? That's your residual stupid at work. There might come a time to tell him, but now is not the time. Let the grown ups fuck themselves up a bit more first. Don't tell L anything, just have him on your side. I don't even want to think about what would happen if L found out."

"Nothing's going to go wrong."

"I don't know, Mello. I think that we should have a backup plan."

"No. Nothing's going to go wrong."

* * *

**A/N** Sorry about the slang in this chapter.

Matt's text message from Sadie reads (in legible and terribly rude English): "Matty Boy, Let's get naked and fuck? Oral Sex and Sex? 8pm or as soon as fucking possible. Any time, any place, anywhere. My roommates thank you for the show. By the way, I think I'm in love with you. Kiss kiss. Sadie."

Matt's intended reply, WILCO, means "Will comply." | un-rehabilitatable – I don't think that that's a word. | Zaubermaus – 'magic/enchanted mouse' in German. | Matt's German vocab is courtesy of **MuffinGuy** because that is genuinely all the German he knows and it cracks me up.

Listen to "The Imperial March" by John Williams and think of Light walking to a toilet (or anywhere) at great speed and with purpose. xxxx


	18. Machine Gun

**Chapter 18 **

**Machine Gun**

_I saw a saviour, a saviour come my way_

_I thought I'd see it in the cold light of day_

_But now I realise that I'm only for me_

_If only I could see you return myself to me_

_And recognise the poison in my heart_

_There is no other place, no one else I face_

_The remedy will agree with how I feel_

_Here in my reflecting, what more can I say?_

_For I am guilty for the voice that I obey_

_Too scared to sacrifice the choice chosen for me_

~ Portishead

* * *

Light had an image of L in his mind like a flower pressing. Tightly held between the layers in his mind, behind everything, like a calm. He settled upon it all the way back from The Hanover; imagined him sitting, standing, crouching, thumb in mouth, cogs turning, heart beating. He was probably still in Watari's room at that same moment just a few miles away. It seemed strange to Light that they functioned independently. The thought almost hurt. It was wrong somehow.

His face felt tight. Smiles flashed and slashed across his face like a knife-cut in a tightly stretched canvas. He was starting to feel pinched, and he was sure that his smiles looked as insincere as they felt; rising and falling with no gradual transition between. He turned his face to the window and watched Tokyo stream by. He wasn't focusing so it was just a grey blur flickering incessantly like a fucked up film reel to the soundtrack of Matsuda's continuous and meaningless talk. People like him spoke for no reason because silence was an enemy to most people.

Light explained to his father how he'd bought peace at a cake shop and they exchanged smiles at L's oddness, how easily bought he was, and how apparently cake could turn all disagreements to dust. Light was going to make amends with L. Soichiro patted him on the head in the affectionate way he hadn't shown towards him for a while. He said something about Light having to be the bigger man and make amends. Light wondered what he meant exactly, so he simply nodded and walked over to Watari's door.

The relief of coming into the room and abandoning the affectations he presented for the benefit of everyone else was soothing. It was almost like being alone. His head suddenly began to ache, a delayed effect of the natter and noise he'd lived in for the past few hours.

And there he found L, still in his dressing down and slowly rotting in the eccentric isolation of Watari's bed. His familiar inverted, defensive position made Light want to straighten him out, and a real smile broke Light's face fleetingly, settling into his features naturally. He looked his age as he threw a white cardboard box on the bed next to L's curled up figure. L lifted his head slightly, his hair in a ruffled confusion, allowing the colourless eyes drift down to look at the gift with heartbreaking disinterest. It obviously held no interest for him. To Light, life had been a succession of disappointments and L was yet to disappoint, so he was nervous.

"What's this?" L asked, his voice thick and smoky.

Some dull, heavy sound kicked inside Light's chest and he found himself inwardly saying his I love you's, pouring by the thousand. His heart stuttered them out like a silent round of machine gun fire, tearing the seams of what he was. No one else could possibly hear or know, and it was better that way; it made him feel stronger to be assured that it was his secret. L gingerly rotated his stiff shoulder in ignorance and as the seconds passed, he gazed up at Light, wondering where his answer was. After an intake of breath, Light supplied. "Don't interrogate it. Just open it."

He dragged a chair from the corner and sat at L's bedside. It reminded him of their independent spells of illness when the other would sit, uncomfortable and awkward, in a chair next to the bed, waiting. It must have reminded L of the same, from the expressive way his lip curved around annoyance as he sat up defiantly. He caught Light's gaze, flinching at his golden good looks as if it were an alien thing in the room. He didn't find what he was expecting in Light's eyes, so his face slackened. His eyes became half-lidded again like shutters coming down. He stretched, fluffed his crazed hair and rubbed the insomnia from his eyes, almost comfortingly. Light was positive that L was pulling out all the stops with his indifference in an attempt to make him angry. He breathed out his amusement, the noise blending with bored shuffling as L spoke again.

"I'm naturally suspicious of strange boxes given to me by disgruntled men. What is it?"

"It's Pompey's head. Whatever you want. Just open the box already." L sighed and reached for the carton lazily, dragging himself up into a seated position as he fiddled with the string which tied the box closed. Light smiled unselfconsciously, looking away when he noticed L staring at his bared and glistening teeth. He sought for something to say to alleviate his discomfort. "If I said that it was a bomb, would you be more or less likely to open it?"

"I'd open it, regardless of what you said or what delicate sentiments you pretend to immortalise," L replied. His eyes reluctantly flicked towards Light's crossed leg which bobbed with a kind of faux irritation. The crisp, new leather shoes cracked as they were slowly being forced into conforming to the shape of his foot.

"Yes, because you're nosey," Light said airily and validated. "If it was a bomb, you could congratulate yourself and think, 'Ah, I knew it!' before you were blown to smithereens."

"I don't think that I'd be quite so pleased about it, but yes. Your gifts are never quite what they seem and I've learned to exercise caution. Still, point taken, it's unlikely that it's bomb. You're still in the room and suicide is not really your style."

"Open the box," Light ordered.

L flipped open the lid and stared at the contents. "Oh. More kindness," he said.

"It's because I killed your cake that your friend left you," Light explained, needlessly.

"You grovelling bastard," L smiled. "And rather than replace like for like, you usurped his with the most expensive cake you could get your hands on."

"There are six of them in there too," Light grinned back, mischievously.

"Yes, I think that you have successfully trumped his sad little offering. Even so, his was a genuine and well-meant gift. This is simply an afterthought," he said, closing the box.

Light's eyes darkened. "It wasn't an afterthought."

"You said that I could have whatever I want and I want to believe that this is an afterthought. It's a convenient excuse, a pacification, an attempt to replace what you destroy."

"No, it's just a cake. Six cakes and a crêpe suzette actually, but you call it what you like. This ice queen thing you've got working for you is overwrought, by the way," Light said as L put the box down and collapsed back upon the bed. "I brought you some clothes," he added, his hands tightening around the little folded and piled squares of cloth on his lap.

"You want me to put clothes on? That's unusual."

"Ok, I'm tired of catty comments now. What are you thinking of anyway? Stay in here until someone finds you fossilised in a few hundred years, then. No one cares about you except me."

"Oh, psychological manipulation now, is it?"

"No, I'm just pointing out that no one else is... Never mind. What do I have to do here to make things right with you? I'm trying here."

"Yes, you are very trying. I was just wondering whether I did actually love you, or whether I've just been fascinated. Like a bird with a shiny object."

"Do you think so?" Light said, ignoring his inner panic and sounding appropriately unconcerned as L stared into the shadows.

"Perhaps. Looking through a glass, darkly, and I see you."

"Biblical poetry now? Look, I want us to be ok."

"I'd gathered that you're after peace, reconciliation, and sexual intercourse just to seal the deal. Otherwise you'd still be on the roof sulking, or moaning to your father about what a horrible person I am and how hard done to you are and how the world cries for you, Light. You always were a try hard. Always. And what you want, you inevitably get, but I'm damned if I'll just hand it to you on a plate. You have to earn it."

"I'm not going to beg for forgiveness, especially for such a minor thing. You can forget it."

"I wouldn't expect you to beg. Did you have a nice time on your little jaunt, by the way? The Hanover is nice. I've stayed there once, no, two times."

"How did you know that I went to The Hanover?"

"I didn't. It was a guess, and a good one, evidently."

"Oh, look who's got his detective hat on."

"Please, that's hardly worthy of being called detecting."

"True, more like a housewife's trap, I think."

"Housewives are the best detectives; curtain twitchers with the world at their mercy. So, have you been cavorting at The Hanover?"

"No cavorting. Just cake." Light's hand reached out and ran along the dark screens of the computer monitors behind him. They were warm. "Have you been hacking into the street cameras again?"

"I might have. That's part of the investigative resources that I have over the housewives or they'd see me out of a job."

"So, you _saw_ that we went to The Hanover. You were watching me the whole time and you lied. Your faith in me is humbling."

"I didn't watch you the whole time, 'The Blue Dahlia' was on another channel. Besides, The Hanover is discreet. It's why I've stayed there. It's why politicians go there with their mistresses or whatever young waif they've picked up off the street. There is no internal camera system, as you know."

"I didn't know that actually, so, no, I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm obviously not the conniving villain that you think I am. I just went there to buy you a sugar factory and to get out of this bloody building. No ulterior motives."

L smiled at the hint of irritation he'd managed to draw from Light. "You're just jealous because I could detect you into the ground."

"Oh, and now you're being insufferable. Lovely. It must be Tuesday," Light sighed.

"You're trying very hard to be pleasant, I must say. Cake-based apologies, not rising to the bait. Are you sure that you're feeling alright?"

"I told you, I just want us to be ok. Like yesterday," he answered, truthfully as it happened, and more than a little sad about it. L sat up, intrigued and smirking handsomely in his dishevelled, spectral way.

"And how was yesterday such a joyous day?" he asked.

"It just was."

"Maybe it was for you. In contrast, I found it quite devastating in a variety of new and marvellous ways. Apart from the standard protocol, I fucked you violently against a desk, you fucked me violently while I was innocently reaching for my jeans, and then we fucked each other violently on the roof during a rainstorm. In fact, we fucked each other so violently and so many times that now neither of us can walk properly or sit down without wincing. What else? Oh yes, I found out that someone I nearly trusted and have known most of my life, isn't dead after all, and is instead plotting to kill me with the help of a terrorist organisation. Then, just when I thought that it was all over, you threw my cake on the floor. All that on top of the inclement weather. It's not raining now, is it?"

"Passing showers," Light muttered slowly, apparently bored.

"Oh. So, tell me, how was yesterday so wonderful for you?"

Light became immediately animated at the question and gave L his most seductive smile. "Because you really were the most blinding fuck. Who would have thought it to look at you? We should have more dirty weekends." He smirked with his own brand of dazzling charm which would either inspire people with the urge to kiss him or punch him in the face. Some form of facial impact in any case.

"Ah, and here I was thinking that our relationship was based on something akin to the linking of souls. I thought that you loved me for my wit, good breeding, and excellent table manners. Can't have it all, I suppose," he said, rather sadly, as if assured that he could do so much better for himself.

Light brushed a hand over L's head as he reached over and deposited the clothes on the bed. "You were expecting too much. So, are you going to play nice?" L looked at him and couldn't hide what Light recognised as that fathomless interest that Light alone held for him. Something simultaneously commanding and surrendering.

"I think that we could put money on the odds that neither of us are going to play nice."

"Is there nothing that I can do to change your mind?" Light said with a sinister turn of one who knows his own worth and boundless capabilities.

"I'll think about it," he answered, and Light absorbed the secret warmth it betrayed.

"Well, while you do, put some clothes on and show your face to your task force. Matsuda is on the verge of calling the fire service. I think he thinks of you like you're a cat stuck up a tree."

"I'm tired of appeasing people and have no intention of seeing anyone today. Now come here, you fiend," he said, patting the bed while Light leaned back into his chair, laughing at L's raw sense of privilege.

"Ha, stop it. Next you'll be calling me darling, or baby, or another equally revolting term while you do something terrible to me."

"It wasn't intended as a term of endearment. Enough. Just come here."

"You're not serious. Not in here."

"Why not? It's just a room."

"It's not just a room, it's a shrine and you know it. Otherwise you wouldn't run in here every ten minutes and keep everything in its place like it's the Valley of the Kings. Upstairs, yeah, throw me across the bed like I'm Scarlett O'Hara, but here, no. Not on a dead man's bed. It's disrespectful, and to be honest, I'm surprised at you. Except I'm not. But anyway, no."

"Don't pretend to be prudish and moralistic. It's a room. It's nobody's room any more. I'm in it, you're in it, and cake is in it. Think what a wasted opportunity this would be."

Light's head tilted because he didn't quite believe it. "L, right here?"

"Here."

"My father's outside."

"Of course he is. he practically lives here. I'm going to start charging him rent the way it's going."

"Sorry, but what is the point of this? Are you gathering evidence to prove that I'm Kira based upon whether I chose to sleep with you on Watari's bed while my father's outside? That probably wouldn't be terribly good evidence in court. Sorry to break it to you."

"It's not about Kira, " L said, sluggishly, "I just like to see what you do."

"Whatever I do, you'd construe it as guilt."

"It could indicate guilt for a normal person. But you're not normal, so nothing's so simple. I'm very good at making excuses now. I just want you to do what you do. But don't lie to me, there really is no need. I couldn't think any more highly, or less of you now."

"Well then, how can I refuse? I personally have no problems about where and how, but this speaks volumes of latent psychosexual problems too numerous -"

L's anger flared up suddenly and he interrupted with his tried patience. "Yes, let's Freud things up a bit. That's just what we need, a bit of Freud."

"I'm sorry, should I just put up and shut up?" Light said, matching L's aggression.

"Or give out and pout, whichever you prefer. You can psychoanalyse me later."

"I don't want to psychoanalyse you."

"Oh please, it's your life's work. You've been doing it since day one."

"And of course you're not guilty of that at all," Light argued while watching L reach into a drawer next to the bed and pull out a tube. "You brought lube into Watari's room?" he gasped. "What went so spectacularly wrong during your childhood that has you bringing lube into Watari's room? Actually, I really hope that you did. That's not his lube is it? Why would he? He wouldn't. Would he? Oh my God!"

"It's not lube actually, it's... Oh. It is. It's called Liquid Silk. I don't think it's anything to do with dressmaking."

"I'm so disturbed right now. Did you find that here or is it ours? No, don't answer that, just put it away."

"I think that there's still some butter in the fridge. I brought some in last week to make cinnamon toast. It didn't work out very well." That thoroughly disgusted Light.

"That's not even funny and you're completely taking the piss now. Butter? What is this, 'Last Tango in Paris'? Ok, forget it. The whole idea is warped."

"Touch me not..." L mumbled, more to himself. "I've never heard so many fake protestations, and I've heard a lot of fake protests in my line of work, especially from you."

"This is taking all the romance out of it. Not that there was much to start with."

"I didn't know that you were looking for romance, Light. I was under a misapprehension. I'm sorry to disappoint you but we must think practically, otherwise terrible things could happen and how could I explain that to your father?"

"It'd probably go along the lines of, 'Oooooooh Yagami-san, pardon me ever so but I seemed to have split your son's kipper in a game of hide the frankfurter. What! What! Tally ho!' Don't flatter yourself. God, I feel a bit sick. And don't bring my father into this. There's far too much Oedipal stuff going on here without you bringing my father into it as well."

"Light, please will you leave Sigmund outside next time you walk into this building? Or at least read his theory on the super-ego because I think that you might find it interesting. Besides, Watari was not my father."

"Father-figure, whatever," Light said dismissively. When he turned back to L, he saw how injured those large eyes looked. He quickly reviewed what he'd recently said and realised immediately that it was not a good idea to refer to or insinuate anything which may remind L of Watari. It wasn't lost on Light that this was strange considering that they were currently discussing having sex in the old man's bedroom.

"Why do you have to do that?" L asked.

Do what?"

"Keep opening up wounds."

"I don't mean to. I'm trying to be the voice of reason here. You might regret it one day, that's all I'm saying."

"Yes, you're a regular Jiminy Cricket. Sadly, I regret everything and I don't want to be psychiatrically evaluated. You can either stay and play by my rules, or go and sulk. It's all the same to me," L said. It was just another challenge, Light reasoned. He knew how L liked to set him challenges.

"Look, I said that I was sorry that I reacted like that with your friend."

"You didn't actually say sorry. But since you bring it up, I might as well tell you that as you suspect me of working behind your back I thought that your reaction, though airing on the side of the dramatic, was understandable really and isn't bothering me. If you'd been polite and courteous, that would have bothered me. Why should I, of all people, care how rude you are to others?" L sighed.

"You say that but you're clearly pissed off with me about something. And, well, you were kinda alright with me before that."

"If that's how you gauge me being 'alright' with you then I'm 'alright' with you right now because I have Liquid Silk. Look," he said, irritatedly holding up the tube. Light turned away at the sight of it as his mind flashed with disturbing images involving Watari going to a chemist and scouring the family planning shelves. Maybe elderly men need things like that for perfectly innocent reasons? But, still, he didn't like to think about it.

"Stop it!" he blurted. "That's not what I mean. Why can't everyone leave us alone? Just for one twenty-four hour period, it'd be nice. There are always strangers turning up in the middle of the night and people wandering about. It just never ends."

"Oh, Light, you poor boy. Yes, it's true, but this is an investigation headquarters. You're living in a police station with a grandiose delusional disorder. Detectives and strange people do tend to come and go," L said with a pointless flick of the wrist to indicate the veritable revolving door that they lived in.

"I know that," Light said, crawling into the bed, feeling suddenly very tired and wanting to give in. He pressed his forehead into the pile of fabric of the dressing gown which bunched up across L's chest. "Are you telling the truth about not being angry at me about your friend?" he asked as L shifted a little. Light imagined that L was altering his position in a selfless gesture to make him more comfortable. Then again, he could be wrong. He'd been wrong before.

"He's not my friend and I'm really not annoyed in the slightest by that," L replied. "You were tired and naturally very suspicious of me. There's an end to it."

"It's just... you don't know what it's like to wake up and find yourself alone."

"Of course I know what that's like," L said, his fingers smoothing Light's hair behind his ear with a revealing gentleness.

"No, you don't. You have no idea," Light said grumpily. Of this, he was sure. L did not share that same horror Light had of waking up in an empty bed, knowing that he wouldn't see L at all that whole day, or the day after, forever. But then, Light knew it was coming, and soon. L didn't.

"While I'm speaking of the actuality of waking up alone, I have a strange feeling that what you're speaking of is rather loaded. In any case, loaded or not, it shouldn't bother you, Light. It's what you want.

"Maybe you're right," Light said, stretching out within the crook of L's aching arm, looking up with the oblique shyness of one completely infatuated. In contrast, L looked down upon him questioningly, his eyes were like cameras. "I don't want to argue," Light stated resentfully. "So yeah, whatever you say."

"My word, you are feeling sorry for yourself, aren't you? You're letting me run all over you. Should I be concerned? Are the cakes bombs? Are you having a manic depressive episode?"

"Just stop, just for a minute. I feel... I don't know."

"How illuminating," L drew Light closer. The overlarge sleeves of L's dressing gown covered them and Light felt like he was being molested by a polar bear. He sat up out of L's hold, straddling his lap while he began trying to strip L. It was something which would undoubtedly be interpreted as a come hither, how else could anyone interpret it? But it didn't really matter in any case. Light wanted only love and obedience on both sides. He was beside himself, fraying at the edges, and he wanted to know that L understood, felt the same way, and for him to offer some consolation, none of which he could supply. How could he, without knowing? And if he did, it was unlikely that he'd have that kind of reaction. L probably thought that Light was sorry. Sorry for himself and looking for forgiveness. But Light knew that he was forgiven. He never really considered that L would be truly incensed at him, not matter how rude he was or how many cakes he threw. While they were both aware that their tactics of sniping arguments and accusations were a standard form of foreplay, Light felt exhausted by it today and was determined to avoid it at all costs. It was their last day. L was kissing him.

"No," Light said, the word was muffled and unclear but L got the gist of it and pulled away anyway, looking a bit confused and conflicted, which was exactly how Light felt, oddly enough.

"No?"

"I know what you're doing," Light said, stroking the side of L's face lovingly, his messages all screwed up. "This whole thing, here, in this room; you want to put me on a petri dish and examine me. Maybe that's all you've ever done to me, but I don't want you to do that today." L looked surprisingly sympathetic and regretful.

"I've often thought this about you and it's ironic, but you think too much. Don't you want me to make it stop for a little while?"

Light thought about it for a moment, nodding, sharing the regret. He thought about the deepness of what they had and how secret it was, even between themselves. They couldn't and wouldn't reveal everything. Perhaps L felt the same fear of hurt, of it being laid bare and of them both acknowledging it. He felt it sometimes. L gave him little involuntary glimpses of tenderness that Light must have taken with some visible surprise because he saw L silently reproach himself for being so unguarded. It wasn't fair for such a man, for anyone, to feel like that. But this whole thing was so undisclosed and locked up that it was hard to believe that it existed at all. He lunged for L the moment he made the decision.

He did want it to stop. He wanted him to make it stop. At first he'd been afraid whenever he lost control of a situation and it hardly ever happened. If it ever did, he was always able to wrangle control back quickly. It was a skill of his that he'd mastered, but not with L. He didn't trust himself with him. It was as if he was being broken and L could steal his secrets and throw him away. There were still times when he felt that rising panic like bile in his throat, but increasingly so, he lived for it. He felt like his mind would eat him away from the inside out and leave nothing but a thudding heart. It would flicker in jolting starts and soon there would be nothing but L. He could feel only him and wherever they touched sparked electric across his skin, through his veins; like rain on fire, and he ached for him until they belonged to each other. That act which Light had always imagined was so perfunctory and wrapped up in romance beyond it's station was suddenly everything. But it was only for moments. It wouldn't last, because nothing did.

He felt himself being rotated and pushed down into the mattress by L's weight, and his blood already boiling and wracked by his and L's consenting sighs and kisses. He opened his eyes and couldn't see L's. He clung to L's neck and allowed himself to be pinned down, his clothes stripped. And he did feel like a specimen being torn apart by an eager biology student.

"L. Look at me. Look at me," he rasped. But L wasn't listening, or he was ignoring him, so Light grabbed his chin and stole his attention. "I love you." There was hardly any noise. The words carried on a haunting breath as they passed over his lips. Then L looked so desperately sad, just in the eyes, and Light was sorry. L blinked and averted his face momentarily to hide it and wash the sadness away, or maybe because he couldn't bear to look at Light anymore. He curled above, taking Light with him in a perfect line. As he did, Light arched against the sheets, exposing a throat which L ran a hand along and kissed the silver sheen from it. Light's mouth searched for L's lips, breathing into him the agonies and euphoria. He felt more right there in his arms than he did in his own skin and it was a deep and stabbing pain somewhere in his chest that he had to give him up. But he couldn't go back on it now. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. "It's not enough," he whispered.

"What? I'm not enough?" L asked softly, unbelievingly, but with the tone of someone who had always secretly known it to be true.

"No, nothing. It's nothing," Light said, kissing him, dragging him back. Then he heard the sound of something hitting the floor. "Fuck!" Light shouted, stretching for a clear view over L's shoulder.

"I'm trying, pay attention," L replied, out of breath and cross.

"No, stop, stop. It's Matsuda." L drew himself high up over Light, staring down at him.

"This is a joke, right? Your sense of humour has returned and has brought bad jokes."

"No, get the hell off," Light said, pushing him away roughly. "Matsuda! Matsuda, stop right there." L was effectively discarded back onto the bed while Light struggled to put on some clothes and decency. He caught sight of Matsuda standing by the doorway, all shiny shoes, cheap suit, and with one hand covering his eyes, the other holding a mug which shook within his grasp of the handle. L smiled at the absurdity.

"Yes, Matsuda-san, please take a seat and Light will see you shortly. I won't keep him for that much longer. I'll fast track him," he said grabbing Light around the waist.

"Get off me, you lunatic!" Light shouted, pushing L back onto the bed where he laughed like a torrent. Light finally got himself together and rushed to the shaking, unwilling observer. "Matsuda -"

"Saw more than you bargained for?" L interrupted from the bed.

"Shut up!" Light shouted, staring back at him angrily. But L had put on his dressing gown again and was making his way over.

"I'm sorry, I just thought that you might want some... tea," Matsuda explained, painfully, and with some keen look of horror in his eyes as L's smile grew wider. A sadist in a dressing gown.

"Ha! Tea! What do you think of that, Light? Oh well, waste not, want not," L said, taking the mug from Matsuda's hand.

"There's a kitchen in here, we could have made our own tea," Light pointed out. Matsuda visibly crumpled in the way that people with good intentions do when they're suddenly made the reluctant focus of resentment.

"Bleugh! There's no sugar in this!" L accused, holding out the mug like it was poison.

"That was Light's tea. I dropped yours. I'm sorry."

"Matsuda, have you heard of knocking? It's standard practice. And hold on, how do you know the code for the door anyway?" Light ranted. He'd gone a whiter shade of pale. This whole situation was apparently quite traumatic to both Light and Matsuda.

"Ryuzaki told me."

"Oh, great. Brilliant, L," Light called over and sighed as L grinned. He turned his attention back to the shaking interloper.

"Matsuda, listen. You cannot mention this to anyone. Forget it. It was a bad dream."

"I disagree, Matsuda-san," L piped up. "You should tell Yagami-san. He has a right to know that his son has been taking part in consensual sex with a man who is several years his senior. Considering the factors involved, he really should know. In fact, there's so much wrong with this situation even I can't get my head around it. Thankfully, I don't really care."

"Are you going to shut up soon?" Light asked.

"Unlikely. You're still officially a child, Light. That, along with the various other negative factors, must make us both terrible, terrible people. Then again, it's not as if you didn't already know about this, Matsuda-san. You've seen us on two occasions, at least two, maybe not quite as graphic a situation as this one, but I must confess that sometimes my awareness is off kilter. There was definitely once in the hallway, after which you told Yagami-san, who then confronted Light. And then there was that time in the journal room."

Light reeled at the revelation. "What?"

"Which Light didn't know about."

"When was this?" Light asked, incredulous, his eyes tracking between L and Matsuda, whoever was brave enough to answer him first.

"Ooooh, a few months ago?" L replied.

"And you knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were busy at the time," L smiled. He'd found some sugar and was stirring about a pound of it into his tea.

"L, for God's sake!"

"You were in such a good stride that I didn't want to put you off. I suppose it slipped my mind afterwards."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE!" Matsuda shrieked, placing his two hands over his ears and scrunching up his eyes. He looked as if he was readying himself for some kind of calamity. L and Light stared at him blankly.

"He doesn't want to hear anymore about the sex that we have, Light," L said, stirring.

Matsuda gasped and sank to the floor. "I need to sit down," he said, a little after the fact.

"So do I," Light agreed, sitting on a chair. L continued staring at Matsuda.

"I'm actually impressed. Do you have a spidey sense for walking in on such situations, Matsuda-san? What do I employ you for again?"

"I didn't mean to walk in while you were, y'know, busy." The last word was extracted like a tooth with an accompanying sob of pain.

"See, Light. As Matsuda-san's employer, I think I might have to fill in an accident report for this incase he needs therapy. I hope my insurance will cover the costs. Really, we should exercise some restraint. Look at this poor beaten down shell of a man that we've created."

"Matsuda, I'm sorry that you had to see that," Light said, forcing back his anger.

"Yes, it must have been an unfortunate angle," L agreed. Light turned on him.

"Shut up, will you? Let me handle this."

"Watch out, Light's taking charge. Batten down the hatches!" L managed to exclaim with a dramatic sense of impending crisis as Light pushed him back into the bedroom and shut the door. Light turned, resting his eyes on Matsuda with a determined look.

"Matsuda, you have to forget about this."

"Light, um, do you think that this is a good idea? You and Ryuzaki?" Matsuda replied, he seemed less anxious now that L was out of the room and had somehow taken on the role of an older brother warning his tearaway counterpart on the dangers of his wayward, promiscuous ways.

"No offence, Matsuda, but I don't think that's any of your business."

"But Ryuzaki said -"

"Ryuzaki says a lot of things. No, Matsuda. You have to forget about this and knock before you enter rooms. It's a life lesson. Learn it."

"Are you a proper couple?"

"Matsuda -"

"Or is it a casual thing? Because, to be honest, we all thought that you hated each other, and then yeah, I guess that you don't." He suddenly seemed quite taken with the idea of an office romance and the forbidden love of it all.

"No. Look, it's complicated and, again, none of your business. Just... ugh. Go. Oh, leave the mug though, I'll make myself another cup of tea, thank you. Go to the bathroom, splash some water on your face, calm down, make _yourself_ a cup of tea, and try to forget what happened."

"I don't want to lie to the chief, Light!"

"You don't have to lie, just don't say anything in the first place. It's not hard to do. Just go out there and don't mention it. The rest will come naturally."

"Are you two in love?"

"What?"

"Are you and Ryuzaki -"

"I heard you, I just couldn't believe that you said it. Matsuda, if it gets you through the night believing that there's an intense affair going on here, then fine. Think whatever you need to as long you don't mention anything to anyone Ever. And for the rest of your life."

"Or Light will probably end your life," L said calmly from the open doorway. He was holding open the box of cakes, pinching pieces and popping them into his mouth like sweets at the cinema. Neither Light or Matsuda were sure how long he'd been standing there.

"Shut UP, you bastard. You absolute bastard!" Light shouted.

"Ah, hark! My lover's dulcet tones," L cooed.

"Aren't you at all affected by this?" Light asked. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

"Despite that, you've done an excellent job at averting a potential crisis. Besides, I'm sure that Matsuda-san has had better days as well."

"Yes, I really have," Matsuda confirmed. His grandfather's funeral was a peach of a day compared to this.

"No, this is not a good day for Matsuda-san," L stated, shaking his head sadly. "Take the day off, again, if you need to."

"No, that'll look suspicious. You can't just send him off on paid leave for no apparent reason," Light interjected, turning back to Matsuda. "You just need to get a grip on yourself."

"Yes, Light. I'm sorry, guys. I really am," Matsuda said desperately. L nodded sagely.

"I should think so. I feel most dissatisfied now. Don't you, Light?"

"Be quiet. Ok, Matsuda. Time to go."

"Thanks for the horrible tea!" L called as Light pushed Matsuda back into the office like a pinball in an arcade game, being careful to stand away from the door so he couldn't be seen. He turned back to L who was still standing at the bedroom doorway, a roomful's expanse of floor tiles between them.

"Well, shall we continue from where we left off?" L suggested. Light was left feeling hollow and queasy.

"I think the moment has passed."

"Oh dear."

"That's all you've got to say, 'oh dear''?"

"I'm not sure what else to say," L explained as Light walked past him, back to the bed. He despondently fell down upon it, his fear and respect of the bed and the room itself was gone. It was just a bed and a room, like L had said. He sighed mournfully.

"Matsuda knows. We might as well have taken a two-page ad out in the paper."

L followed and sat next to him rubbing a consoling hand up and down his shin while he threw another piece of cake into his mouth.

* * *

Light woke up alone. He called out, self-consciously, for L. He never had before. The room had reclaimed its foreboding atmosphere. It was cold and empty again, and very much a dead man's room. Light was incredibly angry at L for leaving him to this. His stomach rolled at the thought that he'd done it on purpose.

He re-entered the office, recoiling at the bright lighting. His father's face came into focus, his expression was unreadable as he titled his head to better read his son's face through his purely functional glasses. Light felt like a whore. Matsuda had told everyone, hadn't he? Everyone knew. L was rejoicing as a conqueror and Light would be humiliated.

"Are you alright, Light?" Soichiro asked. He sounded and looked a bit unsure of what fathering technique that he should use.

"I must have fallen asleep."

"Yes, Ryuzaki said that he was talking to you and that you fell asleep mid-sentence."

"Oh?" Apparently they didn't know. Or maybe his father was more modern and open-minded than he gave him credit for. Maybe he didn't give a shit, or maybe Matsuda hadn't said anything and L had covered him with a lie. Yes, that was more likely. "Sorry. I didn't know that I was so tired."

"You haven't missed anything," Aizawa said, grumpily looking at his watch.

"That's not strictly true," L called out from behind his chair. Light wandered towards the voice as if L had beckoned him. He fell into his own chair next to L's and waited. "We found where Astraea were staying as of two days ago," L continued, accepting his silent prompt. "They move every two days, religiously. So it seemed that we're on their heels."

"Well, there aren't that many hotels in Tokyo. Shouldn't be too hard to find them then."

"Hmm... but they're not in Tokyo. It's almost as if someone's warned them."

"They've disappeared?"

"No one truly disappears. They've gone to ground, which for them must be pretty deep. I wonder if they've ever seen the light of day."

"Ha, funny."

"What's funny, Light?"

"Bad jokes, puns. Just you really."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't. So is there anything that I can do?"

"No," L said, moodily. Light countered him with some unadulterated cheerfulness.

"Does that mean that my holiday continues?"

"At the moment," L said distractedly, his focus back on his computer screen.

"Dead ends, cold trails. It's like the old days, isn't it?" Light stated, lazily spinning his chair from side to side

"The trail isn't cold, more tepid. I've got someone looking into it and I expect a reply any moment. There's just nothing that you can do to help, that's all," L replied.

"Oh, I see."

"Unless you want to make some coffee."

"Ah, good idea. Coffee," Light leaped from the chair and went on that quest for the first coffee upon waking to clear the fogginess. He quickly returned, leaning over. Hidden behind the expanse of the back of the wide backed chair, he pressed a kiss upon L's cheekbone as he set one of the cups down on the desk.

"Light, your mouth seems to have collided with my face." L said loudly. Light smiled at the bastard and played along.

"Sorry, Ryuzaki."

Light gulped down the coffee and realised that his throat felt gritty and rough. He sighed at how inappropriate a cold would be at this point, but also how strangely typical it would be. He began rooting around in the drawers of the desk, finding some orange throat drops and his old CD player. There was a blank CD inside which he must have burned long before, before he'd given himself up to L and given up the Death Note, but not his secrets. He had some desire to know what was on the CD so he could compare and contrast the Light of then and now through his music choices of a year before. Shuffling, he started rooting through the drawers for batteries.

"Oh Light," L sighed. He was watching him. Light looked up as if he'd been caught doing something compromising again.

"What?"

"Reduced to the status of a coffee boy."

"It's fine," Light smiled accommodatingly and returned to his intent of kickstarting the battered old player.

"Oh, Light," L sighed again.

"What now?"

"You're so transparent."

"Am I?"

"Painfully so."

"In what way?" he said, struggling to untangle the wires of his headphones. "Is it this shirt?"

"Sadly not." Light snorted and popped an ear bud snugly in place. L's words now seemed a little faraway. "I just wish you'd accept that it's the world which is a broken thing, instead of insisting upon being the broken thing within it."

Light let out an aggravated laugh. "Humph. Broken."

"Do you disagree with the assessment findings?" L inquired cooly. Light flashed his eyes to L's again, angry that he was something to be assessed. Apparently now he was broken because L said so. He was a parasitic cell on a microscope slide again. He was a test mouse in a cage. But L was looking away. It had been a statement he wanted Light to absorb. It didn't require a reply or discussion, so there was no discussion. Light gave up on the CD player and the musical interlude he was going to allow himself so he could watch L do nothing instead. He was grateful that L had inadvertently steeled him to decide what he was going to take with him tomorrow. It had been something he'd been avoiding, even thought it wouldn't take long. All he could take would be the clothes he stood in, whatever few small things he could fit in his pockets along with, most important of all, the Death Note, which he was literally going to grab on his way out the building.

"I'm going to have a shower." This seemed like an opportune moment.

"I didn't upset you did I?" L sounded almost hopeful, perhaps because upsetting him had been his aim.

"I didn't realise that you were trying to," Light said, smiling into L's grimace. "I won't be long," he added in order brush off any reasonable excuse L could find to accompany him.

* * *

In his mind, Light picked out what he would be wearing for the following day. He stared at clothes hanging in the wardrobe before his shower and somehow it became more real to him what was to happen twenty-four hours from that moment. When he returned from the bathroom with dampened and combed back hair, he pushed his hand through his folded shirts, behind which, at the back of the cupboard, he drew out the frayed old strip of knitted wool. Sitting on the bed, he debated whether he would take it with him. The scarf was so small that it almost disappeared when balled up between his two hands. It would fit in his jacket maybe, or in his trouser pocket if he folded it neatly. Perhaps he could flatten it between the pages of the Death Note and -

"Are you decent? Oh, you are. What a shame." L had silently slouched into the room.

Light tried to shake himself of the mistiness his mind was absorbed in. "Did you go to the Matsuda School of Etiquette?" he asked.

"Oh, you mean the no-knocking approach to entering rooms. Poor Matsuda-san, he just cannot look me in the eye. It's quite amusing."

"Don't play too hard with him," Light said solemnly, he wasn't sure why because really he couldn't care less. He made no attempt to hide the scarf on his lap. He couldn't imagine that L would suspect anything dreadful (that is if he picked up on it, which he almost certainly would) apart from perhaps some deep sentimentality which surely anyone would find endearing, particularly coming from such an distant a person as himself. Even Light was surprised at himself. It would look suspicious if he made some effort to hide the scarf so he decided to just pretend that it was the most reasonable thing in the world to be sitting on a bed clutching your somebody else's raggedy childhood scarf.

L sat beside him and spoke again while peering into Light's face, making no effort to disguise the fact that what he had noticed was that Light's eyes were ringed in a narrow red line and were a little bloodshot. "Matsuda-san deserves fair punishment for single-handedly ruining what was a promising afternoon. I'll be careful to hire better people for the new task force."

"You're hiring more detectives?"

"It's probably wise. I'm having them imported," he said, making them sound like exotic toiletries. "I'm running low on them and they're handy sometimes."

"I suppose so. For making tea and things," Light agreed. Yes, that's why people work for years in the police force; in the hope that one day - one sunny, blessed day - they'll be employed to make tea for L.

"Yes, and although they're mostly inept and annoying, sometimes they're quite entertaining. It's a bit like getting your own private cabaret performance every day." Light didn't react so L decided to try harder. "Or we could just sack everyone and move to an island. Yes, I'll buy us an island. Somewhere with broadband and we could work remotely. You can sunbathe and workout again and be all glorious for me while I'll continue to be pasty, interesting and underweight. Shipwrecked visitors can ask you what on earth you see in me apart from my massive wodges of cash, and then I'll have them shot."

"We?" Light always found that word an intriguing concept but as likely as one of them turning into a pillar of salt.

"It's a hypothetical 'we'."

"How would that work then? Would we be L together?"

"No, I'm L. You'd be my helper."

"Do I look like one of Santa's elves? I wouldn't be your helper."

"My trollop then. I'd keep you very well. You'd want for nothing." Light smiled, directing it at the twisted scarf in his hands. L had probably mistaken it for a pair of socks. "Yes, that's what we'll do," L breathed into his ear, the words close to his skin with a warm dampness. "That's how I'll make you mine. Hypothetically, of course."

Light wanted to tell him that he never had and never would belong to anyone, but somehow he couldn't do that because it wasn't really true now. Perhaps even a few weeks ago it might have been true, but today, at least, he was most definitely not his own person. "I'm already yours," he said quietly, bent over as if a great weight was on his shoulders and he couldn't carry it any longer.

L jolted back a little as if offended, but smiling. "Now, Light, you know that's not true. Even if you cage the bird, it doesn't mean you own it."

"I'm a bird now? We're going with bird metaphors?"

"Why not?"

"Ok. Well, maybe the bird gave themselves willingly. Maybe they wanted to be owned."

"That might work for a while but nothing wants to be owned. True nature will win out over all and the bird would begin to hate the hand that feeds it," L said, authoritatively.

Light shook his head. "That would never happen."

"Then the owner may begin to hate the bird because it's not what it was. It lost all the magic it held."

"Stop it. I'm not a magical man-shaped budgie and you're not my owner. I'm saying that I'd stay. I'd choose to stay with you, always. Island or not."

"If you could."

"If you wanted me," Light looked up hopefully, despite the fact there was no way that anything could be salvaged. They were sharing a dreamlike conversation, and it was nice to pretend.

L looked like a kindly but scolding teacher. "Don't make it my responsibility," he said. "You have make your own choices, Light."

"Look, let's not talk about this now. It's a brewing argument and I'm spent for those, really."

"Tell me when we're going to talk about it then?"

"Never," Light replied, twisting upwards to kiss him before he was pushed him back.

"Sex is not the answer, Light. Orgasms are nice, but they're not cathartic. The problems will still be there afterwards."

Light sighed. He wasn't after that, although he was pretty sure that sex would be quite therapeutic at this moment. "That's why someone invented vodka," he said. "Vodka solves everything after the sex, apparently. The world's youth can't all be wrong. We'll have sex, orgasm, and then we'll drink vodka to kill the problem when it comes back."

"Hilarious," L said, standing up.

"You just can't recognise a good plan when you hear one," Light muttered in as good humoured a way as he could manage. He watched L make his way around the room, stooping over the piles of stacked folders which were scattered around. He looked like he was playing a lonely and very slow game of baseball.

The files in question, which had bred and multiplied over time, all looked the same and Light had no interest in them. He'd read the contents of all of them on L's computer long ago so their occupation of their bedroom filled him with an acquiescent revulsion. It was like living in a library when you've read all the books. After a few complaints when the first couple of dozen files found their way in, Light eventually gave it up as a lost cause and thought of them as ornaments and yet another of L's eccentric quirks. L just liked surrounding himself with work. He loved the tangibility of information in his hands with his scratchy, scrawled, mind-stamping notes all over them, along with the odd irrelevant and spiralling doodle. Light thought L probably found them comforting in same way that Light himself drew some solace from gliding his hands over the rough, black cover of the Death Note. L's files contained the stories of the crimes he'd solved - the epic myths of heroes. He could read and remind himself of his greatness as he read his own biography at a time when he was all but beaten, yet closer to winning than he could have realised. He could hold the words in his hands and they were real, unlike their electronic counterparts. But in truth, L had simply lost faith in computers; his codes had been cracked. They'd revealed their secrets like a unfaithful lover who had then run off with his best friend. At least books and files were honest about their vulnerability.

"What are you doing?" Light asked, at last, unsure how long the game was going to go on for. He was considering going to get popcorn.

"Looking for something. That's what I came in for. Ah!" L said, picking up a green bound folder which looked identical to the hundred others in the room.

"I thought that you'd come in for me."

"You mean you think I came I here for uninterrupted sex? That's a novelty we can ill afford," L replied, his mood considerably improved now he had found what he was searching for. "What are you doing anyway? Contemplating how modern life is rubbish?"

"I was just thinking. My head is noisy," Light palmed his forehead wearily like an afflicted silent film star.

"Oh, yes. I know the feeling." L placed a tender hand on Light's head, who leaned towards him, pressing his face into the cool cotton and the fairly unforgiving firmness of L's stomach. As he wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him within the whisper of contact, the scarf fell from Light's lap and onto the floor, practically in a spotlight, revealing itself. "What are you doing with that?" L asked immediately.

Light followed L's line of view to the scarf. "Oh," he said. He wasn't sure how he was going to defend himself. "I wasn't doing anything rude," he offered for starters.

"I told you to get rid of it."

"As if I would do that. You can't burn it, L."

"It's nothing. I don't want it."

"I do."

"Why?" he asked, and Light thought about it for a moment. He wasn't sure why he'd kept it; why he'd smuggled it in like treasure from Watari's room. All he knew was why he was taking it with him, and he couldn't tell L that.

"Because it's important."

"No, it isn't," L said, emphatically.

"Yes it is. I feel like... Well, it's precious, because it's yours." And L didn't know what to say or do. Light felt the tenseness pool in L under his hold. He held him tighter instinctively and searched for something to say that could save this, but L spoke first.

"You angst-ridden prick."

"What?" Light asked, looking up a little taken aback.

"I said that you're an angst-ridden prick. You even take on the angst of other people, imagined or otherwise. It's a scarf, Light. It's an inanimate object. It's old and it has moth-holes and it's horrible in every respect. A refugee in a snowstorm wouldn't take it. There's no need to sob over it."

"If it means so little to you then you won't mind me keeping it, will you?"

"I can't imagine why you'd want to." L tried to extract himself from Light's grip but Light was having none of it. It didn't pass him by that he suddenly had more understanding of Misa and her needy craving for affection.

"Watari kept it and -"

"Yes, ok. That's enough, thank you."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I think that you must have had a horrible childhood. This is obviously all there is left so it means something. That's why he kept it."

"I'm hardly Little Nell. Why on earth should you or anyone else care what my childhood was like? Even I'm not vaguely interested. Now get rid of it, like I asked you," he lifted the scarf from the floor and tossed it into a nearby waste paper bin. Light went to retrieve it with a horrified start.

"Don't do that!"

"Light, leave it and stop playing silly beggars. It's at times like this that I wish I carried a lighter at all times. I know that you go against everything I say but this is taking it a bit too far. Just leave it. I need you to look over some paperwork for me."

This was the first time L had asked for something in a way that almost sounded like he was actually asking for help, disguised as it was within a bossy and ordering tone. Light settled back, deciding upon recovering the scarf at a later time. "Fine. What do you need me to look at? What's in the folder?" Light said, looking up as L idly wafted the file like a large fan.

"This? It's a story, I suppose."

"Go on then, tell me. Is it something to do with Astraea?"

"Possibly. This particular person is making a pest of himself. It's a classic case of someone who has everything but it's not enough. Now he's fallen in with the wrong crowd and frankly I can't be bothered with this sort of nonsense. I have other things going on, as you know. Consider it your first case."

"He sounds like a cunt. By all means pass him onto me, you're far too important of course," Light said, returning L's wicked smile. "What's the background information?"

"You can read it yourself. It's a bit tragic though. Try not to become too fond of him; he's a bit of a loveable rogue."

"Loveable rogues do nothing for me and every story is tragic. So?"

"About the boy? I don't know, that's what I'm trying to figure out. The trick is, I have to work out what he's going to do before he knows that he's going to do it. That's how I win." L whispered conspiratorially, stroking the back of Light's head whose hands began moving slickly over L's back in response.

"That's your secret then."

"Don't tell anyone."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to read the file."

"Oh, sod the idiot and his file!" Light said standing up to kiss L with the sort of scandalous disregard for duty that he rarely, if ever allowed himself. L made a rather shocked 'waaaah' sound before pushing Light back to a safe distance.

"Light, this is important," he said. "Please do this for me. Read what you can and then try and work out what his next move is likely to be. We'll go from there."

"What makes you think that I'll be able to do what you can't," Light replied, indignantly.

"I didn't say that I can't, I just want to see if we come to the same conclusion. I might be rude to you on occasion but I'm not blind that your abilities rival mine. In fact, that's probably part of the reason why I'm rude to you."

"On occasion," he agreed, returning L's smile.

"Yes. So, the file, complete and unabridged. The paperback version is out in March," L said with a tight half-smile. He deposited the folder into Light's hands.

"How long have you been working on this?" Light asked, feeling it's weight and thick bulk.

"A little while. The annotations are messy but I make no apologies. Feel free to add your own."

"Fine. So I'll read this and after everyone goes home we'll do that uninterrupted sex thing?"

"You won't be able to read all of it before then. Read what you can now and finish it tomorrow. I'll bring the vodka for the post-coital self-loathing."

"Seriously, you should," Light was extremely serious and L laughed in the face of it.

"I bet that you've never been drunk in your entire life."

"Actually, you're wrong," Light said. "When I was 15 I drank some very strong pear mojitos at my auntie's wedding and was sick all over the carpet and her dog. They never knew that it was me. Beat that."

"So you were a vomiting phantom? I'm glad to say that I can't compete with that. I haven't been sick over a dog anyway," L conceded, and he looked almost sorry that his life experiences didn't include throwing up over family pets.

"You've actually been drunk then?"

"Of course I have." Oh. Final and surprising.

"Are you a secret alcoholic?" Light asked.

"No, I've simply done research. Some cocktails are quite pleasant and not quite so much like drinking medicine for a chesty cough."

"Research. So that's what they call it now? Well, bring some research with you when you come back."

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your father and make Matsuda-san excruciatingly embarrassed?" L thought it was only fair to point out this common courtesy, but Light was already settled and preparing to get started on his task.

"Pass my goodbyes on, would you?" he muttered.

"I think that Yagami-san would rather hear it from his son."

"I'd rather just read this and get drunk with you."

"Alcohol is a depressive; it won't make you feel any better and avoidance isn't going to help you either."

"And neither will the sex, I know, I know. Let's give it a try though all the same, yes? Now let me read this... what is this, 'The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire'?" he said, looking to L for an explanation for the massive file while at the same time struggling to untie the stretched out elastic which bound the huge tome.

"Alright," L breathed, leaning down to kiss him since Light was waiting expectantly. He left the room remorsefully and Light exhaled as the door shut. He turned lazily towards the file again. Upon opening it, he was confronted with a mass of messy, handwritten notes in English. Marvellous. Light reached to his bedside table to retrieve his dictionary. He turned a couple of pages to find a photograph of a familiar face paper-clipped to the top corner of a profile statistic sheet.  
It was his face. It was his own file.

* * *

"And I feel shit about it, y'know? I do feel kinda responsible. Poor Erin," Matt said, defensively, as Mello tried to drink apple juice while lying down. He was failing.

"Well, you should feel responsible. If it wasn't for you, she'd still have a job," he said.

"Nah, she's fine. She's better out of it and there're no grudges or nothin'. Who'd want to be Mikami's secretary anyway? The geezer's an arse. Anyway, she's working for Vogue US now. She has a drinks column, so it all worked out ok. Don't look at me like that."

"Hmmm... and what about the car?"

"New paint job and interior, it'll be fine. V's sorting it."

"I'm so glad that my mother is proving useful while you shag your way through Astraea's secretaries."

"Now, now, lover. It was only that once. Ok, twice. And Sadie. And the girl selling the muffins. But that was it, I swear."

"Not caring, sorry," Mello waved dismissively. "You're living the dream or whatever. I get it. I just can't imagine how you'd handle a situation like that. I mean for me it's my natural digs, it was anyway, but with you? It's like Teddy Ruxpin being thrown into a James Bond film."

"That's a bit unfair but I get your point. Well, when I'm those situations, I think of you. I try to think like you, I guess. You're my hero, and all that shit."

Matt breathed the smoke of his first cigarette of the day above their heads as they lay on the bed. Mello watched faces form and disappear fleetingly within the opaque cloud. It was 6 a.m. Matt was unsure if he'd be involved in some big job that evening and it was something he couldn't tell Mello about even though he had a bad feeling about it. Instead, he bolstered himself up by regaling Mello with some of the 'Gone in Sixty Seconds' crimes he'd committed while working for Astraea. Mello was jealous; it sounded far more suited to him than Matt, who someone was born to be chained to a computer and a playstation. Matt didn't even want to work for Astraea; he was literally dragged, kicking and screaming, and was only doing it for Mello. The sole thing he seemed good at was bonking Astraea's secretaries and occasionally Mello if they found themselves in the same room and they were both conscious. By rights, the whole scenario should be playing out the other way around, and yet here was Mello being forced into some passive version of himself, making a mockery of his name.

"That might not be the best idea. My track record is pretty poor," Mello muttered, pulling the cigarette from Matt's fingers for a sneaky smoke. He pulled a sickened face at the bitterness and unceremoniously placed the stick back into Matt's mouth.

"No, you get shit done, Mello. You've got that James Dean thing going on for ya."

"Angry young man."

"Yep."

"I'm not so angry any more," Mello said, almost apologising.

"You don't seem to be. I'm not sure if that's such a good thing really but sometimes it's a nice change."

"What do you mean it's not such a good thing? Being angry is exhausting. Anyway, fucking hell, I've got a mother! An actual mother. I guess I don't have any reason to be pissed off anymore."

"Yep. It's what all of us at Wammy's prayed for while singing about how the sun will come out tomorrow. Now you can be an upstanding member of the community and stuff."

"I keep wishing that she was just a librarian from Gloucestershire instead of-."

"A crazy woman? Nah, never. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. One thing I was sure of is that the marvel of the modern science which is Mello has to have come from some gun toting maniac with anger issues. When I first saw her, I thought to myself, yep. That's the one. I could have picked her out from a line-up."

"Yeah, if only L hadn't told me that she was dead and all."

"I'm sure that he had his reasons. It wasn't L's fault per se. If you want to get pernickity about it, you could blame Wammy, but we don't bitch about dead guys. Besides, I've never heard V blame L."

"Well, you'd know, you see more of her than I do. That's not the point anyway, L could have told me."

"L's L and I don't think he's bothered about reuniting families. Your mother was a wrong 'un, Mells, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. You know how I love wrong 'uns."

"She could have been Isaballa the bloody She-Wolf for all I cared. She's my mother and they had no right keeping us apart. They made her a wrong 'un anyway. They made us all that way."

Matt nodded a little too enthusiastically which somehow made it look forced and disapproving while he dropped cigarette ash all over himself. "Who do you think your father is? L?" he asked, streaking a grey smudge over his chest. Mello turned to face him, staring, anger practically wafting from him like a strong cologne.

"Do you want me to rip your head off?"

"No."

"Strange, because it's like you're asking me to," Mello said, grinning like a maniac.

"I'm not, honestly. I like my head, Honigkuchenpferd," Matt assured him. Mello collapsed flat on his back at being called a horse-shaped biscuit. It was a little disarming. How could he stay angry after that?

"You're lucky I like it too, you little shit, otherwise you'd be a unique and highly prized lampshade."

"Someone has to point out how secretive and weird this whole thing is, Mello."

"Yeah, thanks, but I can do without it. She hasn't told me, but she might one day."

"Just keeping it real," Matt said, making some painfully crass attempt at an Eastside hand sign as Mello's eyes rolled inside his head.

* * *

Light looked around the room. It was about midday and he had a headache the likes of which he'd never known. He was thinking about giving it a name because it seemed like it was planning on sticking around for some time. L was muttering into a phone, which immediately put Light on edge. The evening hadn't ended well, from what he could remember. It was mostly to do with L confronting Light with his own investigation file, which was quite a weighty affair and full of sometimes amusing, mostly cold-blooded and heartless anecdotes in L's own handwriting. Light had wanted to fling the file and L across the room countless times, and yet he couldn't stop reading it. It was a meandering but brilliant mess with conflicting theories which changed over the time they'd known each other. There were moments that L had apparently thought that he'd gained some new insight, only to have had the rug pulled from under his feet some time later. Essentially, it was a rather scathing profile and there was absolutely no sense that the author had any feeling towards Light beyond extreme hatred and a begrudging respect. Light tried to read it as though someone else had written it and that it wasn't about him at all. Unfortunately, reality kept smacking him in the face.

Judging from L's mood in the little they'd seen of each other that morning, he was in no better frame of mind than Light was. Then again, the last Light had seen of him was when L stubbed his toe on the bed on his way out the bedroom after helping Light get dressed – a task Light seemed to find both hilarious and too difficult to handle alone. The force of pushing his foot into his shoe flung Light back onto the bed and he'd fallen back into a dreamless stupor as soon as his head hit the pillow. L's swearing had woken him and he had laughed at sweet justice before grabbing his throbbing head in pain. L's last word to him had been a conglomeration of virulent curses made up of several languages. When he left the room, Light went back to sleep knowing that he still had half of his file left to read. He wasn't upset by the fact that L was sure that Light was Kira. That wasn't news to him. It was the sense, within the handwritten words, that L despised him. It really couldn't get any worse.

And now L looked distinctly paler than usual. So did Light. They both had that fragile, slow appearance of those in severe pain and to whom consciousness was a rather agonising experience they could do without. Sounds were too loud, everything hurt, and life was bloody awful. No amount of fried food was going to make it better.

Light stumbled across the room, shielding his eyes from his father's, no doubt, disapproving expression, as well as the overhead light as he passed underneath it as it burned like a million suns. He took his seat next to L, who met his gaze challengingly, if a little glazed and out of focus, and continued to listen to whoever was talking to him on the other end of the line. Eventually bored by Light's staring contest, or by the phone call, or both, he abruptly ended the call in his L patented, tactless way.

"What's happened?" Light asked.

"Nothing."

"You were on the phone to someone and you're not the sort to take phone calls over nothing."

"It was someone selling home insurance and tupperware."

"No it wasn't."

"No, you're right, it wasn't. But I ask the questions here and I don't have to answer yours or anyone else's unless I feel like it."

"Ah," Light breathed out, leaning back and smiling with a sharp burst of exhilaration. For some reason, upon seeing L, it proved a bit of a lethal combination with his mix of fury and love for him. He suddenly felt like doing something exerting, and with L. If it ended up being a fistfight then that was fine, though the fucker liked to kick. Light couldn't possibly feel any worse than he already did and he had the feeling that the fogginess was something that could be beaten out of him. "I think I left something in the journal room," he said.

"I'm busy, Light," L stated, turning back to his computer. Light leaned in close to his ear.

"No, you're not the right kind of busy. If you come with me into the journal room, then I'll make you the right kind of busy."

L turned so that their noses were almost touching. "You are the wrong kind of busy. You can find your own way to the journal room and deal with your own..." his eyes flicked down to Light's trousers, "problems."

Light fell back into his chair with a face like thunder. "If you pass this up then that's it. No more offers. I'll work upstairs for the rest of the day."

"Can I have that in writing?"

"Are you actually saying no to me? Are you turning me down?"

"I realise that it's probably never happened to you before, but yes, I am."

This was a new tactic and Light didn't like it. "That's fine," he said, stretching out his clenching fists. "Absolutely fine. I might as well read this then," he held up his folder. "It's quite the page turner. And you be like that. It's not like it matters to me."

"Clearly," L replied, unconvinced but uninterested.

"Actually, you know what? I think I'll stay. Just in case you get any more gentleman callers."

"I'm not expecting any more until tomorrow now. Don't stay on that account."

"Why are you being even more of a despicable bastard than usual?" Light hissed.

"I have no idea. And I think I'm lovely."

"You're so boring when you're like this. I'm the one who has a reason to be angry. My back still hurts and I'm probably scarred for life. I could write a matching folder on your own 'deep psychosis'. I got exposure because of your insane brain on the roof the other day, I don't even remember most of what happened last night because of this piece of shit," he said slapping the open pages of his folder, "and now I have a headache the size of Africa. Right now I would appreciate some of your attention and a smidge of concern and sympathy."

"And a blow job, apparently."

"Great. If you want to be this way then that's just great." Turning back to the folder of L's damning assessment of him, his eyes unfortunately fell upon the lines, 'Any therapy would likely further enable his abilities to manipulate others. His intelligence and superficial charm, combined with his pathologic egocentricity and internalised morality, make him a dangerous individual deserving of clinical management and incarceration. He is driven by some, as yet, undefined goal. Kira's targeting of criminals gives a certain mask of sanity and 'goodness' in terms of his reasoning, but, due to his narcissism and deep-rooted antipathy, I doubt that they are exclusively or will remain his true aim of attack. At this point in time I would score him high for the Factor 1 scale of emotional psychopathy on the PCL-R, though his neurosis are not fully incapsulated within those criteria. He appears, at times, to show feelings of strong empathy, despite his apparent incapability to love.' Light slammed the folder and the words shut. "What a load of utter rubbish. I don't care. Really. I couldn't give a flying fuck."

"Is everything all right, Light?" Soichiro called over. Apparently Light couldn't gauge how loud his tone was. He chastised himself for forgetting that anyone else was around.

"Yes, Dad, everything's fine. Isn't it Ryuzaki?"

"Perfect over here, Yagami-san," L replied loudly, never taking his eyes from his screen which appeared to be sign-in forms for a hotel. "Light was just asking if there was any work he could do. He's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to get some work done for once in his life," he trailed off.

"What's that, Ryuzaki? I didn't catch that."

"Nothing, Dad, he's just being funny. Funny, funny Ryuzaki!" Light rolled the fake name out like he was introducing a circus act. He turned back to L. "If you start this shit, I swear that I will make you regret it in an unimaginable way. You'll wish that you were dead," he whispered.

"Oh, such promises. You almost sound like an psychotic megalomaniac with a god-complex and a bad hangover."

"I mean it, you -"

"Matsuda-san, would you be kind enough to drive me somewhere?" L interrupted while standing abruptly.

"Uh, of course, Ryuzaki," Matsuda said weakly, looking from Soichiro to Aizawa as they silently tried to review and assess the situation between themselves.

"Where are you going?" Light demanded. L looked down upon him.

"I'm going to visit one of my gentleman callers, Light."

"Lovely. It's all another crock of shit though, of course. Desperate attempts to try to irritate me. You'll probably just go to McDonald's with Matsuda and eat ice cream in back of the car for three hours."

"I'm not that petty, Light. I might call in the drive-thru on the way back though. Do they take credit cards?"

"Priceless. Have a nice time then. Get your rocks off and have a McFlurry. Go."

"I am. Yagami-san, Aizawa-san, please keep Light company while I'm gone. I'm not sure if you know this but he has a tendency to do rash and irresponsible things when annoyed, hormonal and left to his own devices."

"I'm going back to bed," Light blustered, indignant and standing a little too quickly. His head fizzed. L made no attempt to steady him, which Light noted and added to the list of L's other numerous crimes against him

"Again? You've only been awake for ten minutes at a stretch and the only task you've been able to do this morning without my assistance is to put one sock on and call me a wanker, and neither of those things were very successful. Now you're threatening to alter your precious sleeping pattern? Never. You go to sleep at ten o'clock for your full eight hours, every night, just like you're programmed to. That is unless anything else happens to catch your fancy."

"Who are you going to see? I think the whole team deserve to know why you're disappearing in the middle of a global crisis," Light said, glaring at him.

"You really needn't worry, Light. I shall be back very soon. Then we can resume this joyous conversation and I'll kick you in the balls."

"I don't want to speak to you ever again."

"I suppose that your balls are off limits as well then? Oh dear. So dramatic. So predictable. I could have written the script of your responses on the back of a napkin. Shall we go, Matsuda-san?"

Matsuda jumped up, jittering. "I'll get the car."

"I'll come with you," L said. He took a step and seemed to realise something. "Oh, I need shoes, don't I? Bugger. Where did you put my shoes again, Light? I can't keep up with your obsessive reorganising and fung-shui-ing of my clothes and possessions." Light burned a hole into the atmosphere with his deafening silence. "Very well, petulant brat," L told him, "I'll buy some on the way. Matsuda-san, do you know of a shoe shop nearby?"

"Yes!" Matsuda said loudly, grateful for an opportunity to try and diffuse and cover up the ongoing argument with his perkiness, while simultaneously drawing attention to the poisonous air. "I get mine from this great place. It's like a hidden gem really. It looks like a dump from the outside but they have all these -"

"Sounds fascinating, Matsuda-san. Let's call in on this 'dump' and buy some of their, no doubt, marvellous merchandise which has probably been made using child labour, fallen off the back of a van, and illegally imported."

"Um. Ok, Ryuzaki," he laughed nervously, looking briefly back at Soichiro for reassurance.

"Matsuda drives my father home today with the car share. You better not be late getting back," Light boomed from across the room.

"Don't worry, I'll take the train," Soichiro said, calmly.

"You're welcome to come with us, Yagami-san. We can drop you off home before we go to McDonalds," L said as cheerfully as if he was solving a million problems in one fell swoop.

Light stood, literally shaking with anger. "Don't you dare! My father has nearly died because of your worthless arse and this poor excuse for an investigation, and you'll 'drop him off' before you get some ice cream? You're unbelievable. I don't want you anywhere near him."

"Well then, I suppose the decision has been made for you, Yagami-san. I live in fear of upsetting your son. Bad things seem to happen to people who upset him. Why don't you just throw something at me, Light? Why not show off your cake-throwing arm for your father? I know that he'd be so proud of you."

"Get out!" Light shouted.

L smiled and walked out, appearing to be unaffected as he was followed by Light's blazing gaze. It was surprising that he didn't burst into flames. Matsuda grabbed a set of keys from a selection on the wall and tripped after L. As the door closed behind them, Light literally threw himself back into his chair and started rifling through papers like a maniac. Soichiro had seen something within Light that he'd never dreamed was present before.

* * *

When L flicked on the lamp, Light was sitting on his chair by the desk in silence. He'd been sitting in darkness.

"Did you forget where the light switch is or are you endeavouring to save on our carbon footprint?" L asked with a weak humour. His bones were aching to run away from this. There was something dangerous in this room. He'd felt it when he entered the building; a kind of overbearing quiet of a place where something terrible had happened or was going to happen. It was like following the scent and finding the source where it was strongest.

Light's sat with an uneasy stillness. Only his lips moved. "Did you have a nice time?" he asked, smoothly. L ignored the question, trying to take in the situation as best he could. Light's file was open to the left of the desk. Some papers were on the floor, some scrunched up into furious, crumpled balls, some pages were torn. Light had read the whole thing.

His eyes scanned Light, he was clearly not holding anything, but he was wearing a suit and something could be hidden in one of the pockets. The letter opener was still gleaming on the desk and scissors were in plain sight also. He could have a knife from the kitchen though. Shit, even a nail file was a weapon in the hands of someone with intent and L really didn't want to be murdered by a nail file. Everything in the room seemed threatening. Nothing looked out of order, yet Light gave off this intense, unnerving feeling towards him. It permeated the room, filling it with fear. L couldn't bear it, but not because he was frightened, it was only the natural will of self-preservation made him feel panicked. He couldn't bear it because it was Light who was making him feel this way. Then something else caught L's eye.

"What's that?" he said, motioning to an open book on Light's desk. A pen lay across it.

"You've been five hours."

"And twenty minutes. There was a queue at the drive-thru."

"Funny. Did you go anywhere else? See anyone special?" Light asked, looking completely composed, even coldly cheerful. His calm was unnatural. L felt the absurdity of being plunged into a surreal situation and not being quite sure how to handle it. He should call Light by his name and remind him of who he was. It might catch him off-guard and diffuse the situation. Somehow the mind-control tactics he'd been trained in and thought was bollocks the first time round - projecting feelings of love, peace and brotherhood to avoid a potentially violent situation - probably wasn't going to work in this case.

"I haven't been visiting the red light district, Light, if that's what you're worried about. What _is_that?" he asked again, referring to the book. He took a step closer to see it more clearly. His curiosity was stronger than his will to live.

Light stood and hid the desk from view. "I've been making notes," he said. "I've been making notes while you've been visiting friends. You know, there was a moment, about an hour after you left, when I felt some vague notion of sadness. I never wanted to argue with you and I realised that I probably was at least half-responsible for everything. I nearly called you to try and apologise."

"It wasn't a very strong feeling of regret then, I'm guessing?"

Light smiled. That sinister charm was something L had so admired and loved when he'd seen it applied to others, but feeling it directed at himself was something he was unprepared for, completely disarmed as he was. Feelings of self-doubt raced through him as he considered his ability to handle the situation that he'd created.

"No. Because I realised that you're doing this on purpose. All of this. You want me to do this."

"Do what, Light?"

"You never call me Light-kun anymore. When you called me Light, it used to mean something. Now all I want is for you to call me Light-kun again."

"That time has passed."

"Yes. I suppose it has," he said without emotion. "You wanted me to find this?" He held up a page from his file.

"I see no point in hiding it from you since you'd find out soon enough. This way you'll have time to pack."

"I didn't realise that I was so in the way that you've... ah, where is it? You phrased it so beautifully in your reports," he said shuffling through the papers. "Oh yes, 'arranged for Light Yagami to be committed to the high security wing of the institution until further notice for the sake of myself, my team, the investigation and in all likelihood, the future of mankind'. I mean, really. The future of mankind is at stake? I'm flattered. I suppose that means that I'm important or something."

"It's for your own safety. I believe that you'll... that you'll be in danger if you stay here."

"Bullshit," Light spat. In was the sole expression of emotion he'd shown so far. L was strangely relieved.

"I always applauded your extensive and moving vocabulary," L quipped as Light started moving slowly towards him.

"You know, when I first read this, and I've read it a few dozen times since, but the first time, I thought it was a joke. Then I thought that I had misread it. Then I thought that you'd made a mistake. Then I called up Loginov's Institution for the Criminally Insane - catchy resort name by the way, I hear that you own it – and while pretending that I was you, the receptionist was pleased to confirm that yes, I'm booked in and apparently I have a lovely view and cold showers every morning. The bars on the windows don't obscure daylight completely but it's quite unlikely I'll notice anyway because I'll be drugged up to my eyeballs as soon as I arrive. Oh, and I'll probably even get a padded room and a frontal lobotomy if I act appropriately or if you request it. So, what to think? You know that I adore you, there's no point me denying it because, let's face it, I must do. I've acted like a complete idiot to have put up with you all this time and even prolong it. All my problems, the point where my life was completely destroyed, was the moment you came into it. I suppose that there is a good case to say that I'm mad but I was under the impression that you loved me. That's what you kept telling me. So why would you do this to me? And why, _why_did you give me the letter in this file? Was that a mistake? Try to imagine what it felt like to read this and know that you wanted me to find it. Yes, I admit it, L. You've got me. I've been sitting here for three hours, no, more like a year, trying to figure you out and I can't. Don't you have anything to say? I stayed just to find out."

"I think that I should sack that receptionist."

"You bastard."

"Very well, Light. What do you want to know?"

"Oh, so much really. Too much. But I haven't got time."

"Do you have something planned? It's a bit late for dinner dates -" L stopped as Light's hand clasped over his wrist, covering the watch Light gave him and the little deathly gift hidden inside.

"I loved you." And it wasn't the stranger anymore, it was Light, and he looked so utterly heartbroken that it tore L in two. The past tense of the declaration broke his own heart and he wanted to fix it. He wanted to assure Light that he'd stop it. Insanity was relative and how could he or anyone define someone as complicated as Light by branding him as simply being unbalanced. What did it matter anyway? He didn't care anymore. But he did.

"Light -"

"Don't lie to me. Don't tell me that this is for my own good. Don't act as if you're doing me a favour and don't say that you let me find out about it because of some searing need for honesty. How did you think that I'd react to this? Let's pretend for a moment that there are no lies between us."

"There are no lies. Everything's open now," L said firmly. Light let go of him and started laughing.

"Oh really? Is this the trusting relationship that people dream of? I beat you at tennis, you accuse me of murder. I make a fool out of you in front of your investigation team, you lock me in solitary. I drug you, you send me to an asylum. Is that what love is because I've never seen any of that on a Valentine's card."

"What did you expect me to do? I love you, but I'm not going to clap you on the back for a job well done and let you carry on. I'm impressed by you, in the same way as when you're impressed by an erupting volcano, but you don't congratulate it for killing all the villagers. I have to do this so you can't harm anyone else. That's the truth."

"No, you think you know the truth but the actual truth is that you don't have a clue. Not a clue."

"I think we both know what's going on, otherwise you wouldn't be ending this."

"Ending what? I think that sending me to a madhouse is pretty much ending things. I'll give it to you, it's a unique way to break up with someone. Beats a text message."

"You have given me no choice. I have no other options left and I'm trying to save you."

"Save me? Wow," Light reeled slightly at yet more things he found incredibly funny.

L persevered like a newsreader desperately trying to state the facts over the guffaws of a heckler. "I'll get rid of Astraea -"

"Oh great. Yeah, Astraea."

"And then it'll be just us," he said, finally.

"What!" Light exclaimed in disbelief.

"L and Kira."

"Oh, so this is just a little present to keep me out of mischief until we can continue with our fucked up roleplay? 'I got you some electroshock therapy and a strait jacket for our anniversary while I catch the bad guys!' Because what am I, your favourite bad guy? Are there just too many bad guys for you, L?"

"I know that you're working with them," L said. "You met with them yesterday in The Hanover and V was probably their representative. I don't know why you told me that she was alive. I see no benefit to you in my knowing. Perhaps you wanted to tell me the truth in some strange way that didn't implicate yourself though everything points to it just being another of your cruel private jokes. I'd like to believe that there was a good intention buried in there somewhere, even though I'm not sure that you're capable of such a thing. I want to think that you didn't want me to feel guilty because you knew that I thought that she died because of me. Even if that's not true, if there's some other reason, please, just don't go on about you meeting them for the sake of the investigation because we both know that's just lies. Stop being a fraud with me. You don't have to anymore."

"Blah, blah. Look, don't stand so close to me. Every time you speak, you spit all over my face. I know what this is. You've been plotting with your little blond friend, haven't you?"

"It's not about -"

"You can trust him then? You trust him?" Light interrupted, fervently. Despite himself, he didn't want to leave him completely alone.

"I trust no one," L replied, his face like stone.

Light smiled painfully. "You should have trusted me. I would sooner have burned the entire world than hurt you. I loved you more than anything, but you don't know. You could never know."

"I do."

"No. If you did then you- " Light was becoming visibly agitated, his breathing ragged. He broke off, turning his head away to compose himself and L realised that his alarming calm had been something he'd built in order to hide how hurt he was. L berated himself for how stupid he had been. He had half expected Light to kill him. He expected so much of Kira and he couldn't quite believe that it was this same person on a knife edge. Light turned to him again. "Why do you put something you don't care about above me? How can it mean so much to you?"

"But, Light, why do you? Why are you doing this?"

"It's completely different. This is a game to you, and you're on the wrong side. You're so much better than this. If I could make you understand! God, this is killing me, why isn't it killing you? Look at you! Does nothing touch you?"

L reached towards him, thankful that Light didn't fight him or push him away. "Let me help you," he said slowly. He wanted to strike the words into Light until he agreed, fighting the pang of apprehension he felt that if Light agreed, he wouldn't feel the same about him. L would have conquered and beaten Kira from him and he didn't want to believe that he wouldn't always love him as he did now. That maybe he loved Kira more than he loved Light.

"You can't," Light breathed as L clutched him suddenly and desperately like they were falling away from each other. They were lovers still and their kisses were violent and crushing, marking the path ending. It was like taking a confession from their reflections while defiantly standing against everything as it came to an end. Light sank slightly, dragging down L's shoulder, whispering out tortured words and sounds between breaths before L tried to smother them away. To L, it felt like winning.

"Light, help me stop this," he pleaded, though it sounded more like an order. It startled Light, his eyes were suddenly defiant again. And that was his answer.

"Why does it have to be me that has to comply? Why can't you, just for once, give yourself up to me?" he asked as L drew away. They stared at each other for a few moments, both starting accept their choices, and it ended in that moment

"You better do whatever it is you've been planning then."

"Yes," Light said at last. His face took on that bare look again and he walked around L, who was frozen to the spot. Light could detect the hint of terror; L thought that was going to be killed. He truly believed that Light was capable of killing him with his bare hands. That Light could stand there and watch him die in front of him. "You're scared of me. You really don't trust me, do you?" Light asked, the amusement creeping through his question. L's instincts were screaming through his eyes but something else was keeping him there.

"I don't trust you. I love you." he replied as Light laughed into the curve of his neck, making the fine hairs rise with threat.

"Are you sure about that?" Light breathed, his face suddenly tight and sallow as god sparked in his mind. He slowly bent over L, resting along his back and stroking his hair as he whispered almost tenderly into his ear. "Even when I did trust you, when I did love you, you ruined my life. Don't you realise what you've done? Don't you realise how much I despise you now? Maybe I should thank you. You've done what I couldn't do - you ended it. You brought this on yourself, really. But you know that of course. I don't have a thought of my own that you don't share."

In that moment Light was filled with so much hate he wished that he had a knife so he really could tear him in two. He dug his nails into the skin over L's back and felt the pressure give way as he cut little crescents and the blood soaked under his nails. He felt L shudder but not object, only lean into him more. The skin and blood beneath Light's nails was already drying, feeling dirty and tight as he broke away.

The room was freezing. Light walked away and his eyes flickered over L as he grabbed his coat and the Death Note from the desk.

"You can't leave, Light," L managed to say as Light walked past him, causing him to pause in the open doorway.

"You'd better sort yourself out or you'll catch your death," he called back, letting the door slowly click shut behind him.

* * *

**A/N** All the best lines are things **Wordbombs** has said - villager murdering volcanos and the non-cathartic orgasms included. I can't even remember the context of the conversation we were having at the time but it's ended up in this chapter with her blessing.  
**MuffinGuy** (who has been all but sacked) just kept telling me, "Don't do it! Give them another day, you bitch!" Day passes. "Let them have another day!" I was actually scared of breaking L and Light up, so I'm like, "Good idea. Who needs plot? Break-ups are bad enough in real life. Let them bicker into eternity. Fa la bloody la!" Thank God for WB being the voice of reason.  
Also a shout out to **nomen noninandum**. After 'zaubermaus' in the last chapter, 'honigkuchenpferd' was mentioned in a review and I kind of took it as a dare. Via a google search, it's a really happy horse-shaped biscuit.


	19. Bullets

**Chapter 19**

**Bullets**

_Come touch me like I'm an ordinary man, have a look in my eyes_

_Underneath my skin there is violence, its got a gun in its hands_

_Ready to make sense of anyone, anything_

_Black holes living in the side of your face_

_Confine me, let me be the lesser of a beautiful man_

_Without the blood on his hands_

_Come and make me a martyr come and break my feeling_

_With your violence with the gun to my head_

_Ready to take out anyone, anywhere_

_Black holes living in the side of your face_

_Razor wire spinning around your heart_

_Bullets are the beauty of the blistering sky_

_Bullets are the beauty and I don't know why_

_Personal responsibility, personal response insanity_

_~ Archive_

* * *

He had almost transcended himself at last, as a god cannot be mortal. At that moment he could view his life, himself and his action, unfeeling, from a distance. It was like reading a dry textbook and the flaking words which hardly mattered now. What rang in his ears was the last thing he heard L say to him and it was this he blamed for being tethered to the ground still. He was the author of his own destruction.

The things that kept him grounded were painful and uncomfortable. An annoyance really. He didn't remember exactly how he had got to be where he was as it hadn't registered. It was unimportant. He was only aware that he had been brought to this place, perhaps by his own two feet. Yes, by his own two feet. And by some aching necessity which was worth more than he, or anyone else was.

He was nothing because he was waiting. It was only when a car headlight flashed too bright in his eyes that he felt the rain striking him incessantly like an alarm. The heaviness of his clothes weighed him down. The water hung onto the soaked cuffs of his sleeves and trouser legs and dragged him towards the the core of the earth. The invisible hands of angry men. It was like everything was urging him to go forward and get out of the rain, but he'd been standing there by the roadside in the shadows for who knows how long. Those realisations hit him. But before all that, his skin burned against the cool of the Death Note.

He looked at the time on his cell phone and thought again about how V should be there and should have been there ages ago. Then again, he should have met her hours before. Her phone went unanswered and text messages gave no replies. Maybe she'd grown given up quickly because she had no faith in him. She wouldn't trace him though the tracker in his phone because she didn't care. Light wondered about how much influence she had over Astraea and realised that she was proven trustworthy to them while he was not. She'd abandon him as Astraea would abandon him. But L would be looking for him. He didn't dare move further, not that he had any destination, but if he moved from this place there was a good chance that he would be spotted by L and his idiots on a street camera. In this age of surveillance he'd planned his route to bypass all ways L could find him, but this all hinged on V coming for him and he didn't have an alternate plan. So here he was, the most powerful man in the world - a god in most respects - standing in the dark rain amid the cigarette ends and dead birds in the gutter on a rundown street in Tokyo.

As the rain hit the pavement it bloomed white, like milk. Now the water felt like a beating, berating him like he'd failed already efore he'd even begun. The pain and rage was like a heartbeat, surging. He thought of L and within him he felt a boiling sea with something he knew was love and disappointment. A hurt that bruised. And suddenly the despondency was so great that he felt like sinking to the ground, or to go back to L. _Tell them I'm dead, L. Keep me. I'll kill them for you..._ But then he'd think of something else, some other way to do what he had to do. It wasn't too late to have everything if he could have more time.

It was at this point that the sound of rain was overtaken by the slow hum of an engine as a black, sleek car drew alongside him. A dark window rolled down, revealing the red-haired boy inside who looked too young to drive, let alone own such an expensive car. A studious elbow leaned against the window frame and smirked. As he spoke his breath was tinged with white smoke that almost created its own light.

"Look at you standing on a street corner. Times are certainly hard for Kira these days. How much do you charge for head then?"

* * *

Light had removed his jacket which was darker from the rain and folded it mournfully. He was dripping all over the leather interior of the car and was relying only on the seatbelt to stop him from sliding all over the back seat.

"You shouldn't keep a lady waiting, y'know. Rude. If it was up to me I wouldn't be at your beck and call like your own personal chauffeur," Matt said, his eyes flicking towards Light in the rear view mirror. There was something accusatory about the clearness of those blue eyes and Light found himself slinking back into the corner of the car seat, turning his face to the window.

"Do you have to talk? You're a driver, so drive," he said moodily.

"I can multitask."

"Don't strain yourself."

"And you're in luck because I can speak idiot too," Matt smiled. Light stared at him calmly and with something velociraptor-like about his eyes.

"Do you really think it's wise to speak to me like that?"

"You mean, 'Don't you know who I am?' 'Cos yeah, I do. I just thought I'd give you the common courtesy of speaking to you on a level because I'm not sure you've had that before."

Light looked out of the window again, the glass was frosted with streaming rain. "I've had that before," he said.

"Then there really is no excuse for your terrible interpersonal skills."

"I have fantastic social skills when it's worth the effort," Light assured him. Matt raised his eyebrows as if he's just been told that he had a penguin on his shoulder.

"Right. Well, since we're all being honest and not holding back or anything, you won't mind me saying that maybe you're making a bit of a mistake."

"You think so?"

"Just pitching it as an idea."

As if the reinforce the respect he failed to have for Matt's opinion, Light thought he'd better draw attention to the fact that they were apparently driving in circles. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the hotel."

"No, we're taking the scenic route to lover's lane for a quick fumble. Relax, lad. The bigwigs have had to move so I'm taking to you to meet V and we'll go from there. There are suspicions of a security breach. Don't suppose you have any idea about that?"

"I don't know what you mean. Unless you mean L, in which case, yes, probably."

"Probably," Matt repeated.

"I've said this before, and nothing's changed. I don't know why you'd think that I would know what he's doing."

"No, I'm not sure what gave me that idea either. I'm sure he's a law unto himself," he mumbled while Light continued to stare out the window. "If the wind changes, you'll stay like that."

"What?" Light said, like he'd just missed an entire conversation. He looked at Matt's eyes reflecting in the third-party mirror.

"Your face."

"What about my face?"

"Forget it," he sighed, but Light appeared to have done so already. "Seems a shame." Matt added. Light glared at him and sighed mockingly.

"I know. Life is so unfair. And will there ever be peace in the Middle East?"

"It's just that you're only a kid and hardly Alexander the Great. No offence," Matt smiled sharply through the polite afterthought. The glow as he lit his cigarette made him look slightly demonic.

"None taken," Light replied, reaching over and pinching the cigarette from between Matt's lips, winding down his window an inch and throwing it outside.

"So I see." Matt said, one-handedly pulling out another cigarette. "I'll be honest with you, Kira. Can I call you Kira, or do you prefer Mr Kira? I just have a problem understanding people who can't be happy with their lot. The world seems full of people too eager to grow up and they end up mixing with the wrong crowd, taking over the world, getting themselves killed, stuff like that. I don't understand why people can't see a good thing when they have it and be content with that." He looked at Light's blank face in the mirror. "Yes, that old chestnut of a quandary. Thought you could enlighten me." Light sighed heavily and looked pained as he, against his better judgement, decided to reply.

"You seem to be speaking about the majority of the human race. People with no aspiration. People who would rather sit on sofas, gormless, eating potatoes, smoking, tutting at the news, turning over to watch some people get a simple question wrong and get covered with slime instead."

"I like it when then happens."

"How did I guess?"

"Not for the first time, I think you might have me down wrong. Why can't they just be happy and put off going on a murderous rampage? If they hate everything so much why don't they find just one good thing in their shoddy little excuse for a life and enjoy being loved up?"

"What's love got to do with it?" Light said, his face covered in shadow as the car drove through an underpass. Matt replied happily, having successfully located, touched, and twisted a nerve.

"Calm down, Tina. I was speaking broadly."

"Thank you. And 'broadly speaking', I wish you would shut up."

"I can do that. Well, Kira, if we don't speak again, good luck. I hope you get what you deserve."

Matt placed both hands on the wheel to demonstrate that he was done. Light resumed watching the blur outside the window, thankful for the silence and the so often unnoticed rush of the car as it sped through air and surface water on the roads. They both found it oddly easy to ignore the other's presence, like two strangers on a train.

* * *

As Light and Matt entered the warehouse, they caught the tail-end of V's phone call. She's called Mikami, Light thought, and smiled towards his feet. V was wearing a sort of purplish dusting around her eyes which only served to emphasise the bruise-like shadows underneath. Light had never noticed them before. Maybe they weren't there before.

"For a minute there I thought that you weren't going to show," V said to Light, clicking her phone shut.

"Yeah... I take full responsibility for that," Matt muttered, rubbing the back of his head shyly like a chastised child preparing for a slap.

"I sent you out an hour ago."

"Yeah."

"Which means you should have been back _half _an hour ago."

"Well, thing is, it was raining. And. Um. I drove past, just to check he was there first of all, but he was like a drowned rat and looked grumpy. So I drove by again and he looked even more grumpy. Homicidal even. A bit like that muppet who lives in a trashcan. What's 'is name? Like him, only soggy. I was just interested to see how long he'd stay there before he drowned."

"God help me," V sighed.

"Don't bring him into it. Did I mention that I was in fear for my life?" Matt said dramatically, hand on heart, which only went so far as to make his defence seem even more unlikely.

"You left me standing there on purpose?" Light asked, in too reasonable a tone, all things considered. He had a way of not raising his voice at times that a normal person would, which was just another reason not to like him in Matt's opinion.

"Hey, don't tell me that if you were in my position you wouldn't do the same thing?"

Light shrugged and stroked out an unsightly crease that was forming in sodden shirt. "No, I would have run you over," he said, completely without humour. It caused Matt to inhale a sharp intake of clean air which he was unused to and nearly choked on it.

"See?" Matt coughed at V, indicating that he and Light regarded each other with equal loathing so all was fair.

V dragged her hair away from her face despairingly. "Just go, Matt."

"V -"

"No. Go home."

"Don't you think that I should stay?" Matt looked between V and Light who were unconsciously mirroring each other with half-closed eyes and a look of utter tedium at the situation, as if they did this sort of thing every day.

"No need," V replied. "They'll be here soon. We don't need a car dealership outside a supposedly deserted building, in the same way that we don't need L or some dopey policeman turning up and fucking up the handover. Besides, I am not being referee between you two. Just take the car and go."

"Handover?" Light said, latching on to the word he thought most important in regards to himself.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Light, I forgot to tell you. I'm just following orders. The plan is that you're picked up, check. You're dropped off here, check. Then, when there's no sign of L, I'll phone in with the all clear, we'll be picked up and go somewhere with central heating. This is just a convenient place to stop." She turned towards Matt. "Matt, why are you still here?"

"Ok, ok, I'm off. Nahnight, Smiler," Matt said nasally, trying to chin Light with his knuckles with what could, in a boxing ring, be termed a playful manner, before sauntering out. V and Light looked at each other as they heard the car engine rev and disappear into the night. It was as though neither of them were sure of what was coming next. V walked towards him.

"Have you ever used a gun before?" she asked. Light shook his head and V pursed her lips with slight annoyance. "Are you telling me in all your years with a cop in the house, you've never used a gun? You've seen films though, right? Here, no need to be nervous of it. The gun's not dangerous, it's the person with their finger on the trigger who is. It's simple. Point, shoot, don't miss, and try not to knock yourself out when it kicks back. "

"Considering that you don't trust me, I didn't think you'd give me this so easily," Light said, quietly.

"Please, I've been dodging bullets since before you were born."

"And firing them," he pointed out, as if it was he who was unwisely deigning her with his trust instead of the other way around.

"That too. So tell me, how did you get away from L? Why the delay?"

"Not now. Are you satisfied that I'm not being followed because I'd really like a bath and an early night. Not sure whether you've noticed or care but I think that I'm in the early stages of hypothermia."

"They'll be here all in good time so why don't you rest your weary bones. Your evasiveness suggests that it was all traumatising exits and broken hearts. You boys, I don't know," she tutted while Light stared. "Are you going to sit down or what?" V wouldn't admit even to herself that this boy, not much older than Mello, made her nervous. She reached under her coat, to the back of her waistband. After grazing her fingers over the holster of her gun to reassure herself, she turned her back on Light to inspect some rusting engine in the corner of the room. "So, no clothes but the ones on your back. How sad. You're like a wanderer in a Dickens novel. I almost feel sorry for you," she said, briefly glancing back at Light who was still standing and as imposing and scathing as a dictator's portrait. She turned back to the rotting objects which littered the floor. "I'm a little disappointed that there wasn't some big exit after all. How _did_ you manage to –"

She spun around at the sound of the gunshot which burned through the warehouse. The gun that V had given Light was smoking in his hand, now limp at his side. Anyone could be forgiven for thinking that the gun had gone off by accident in his inexperienced hands, only V was certain that he never did anything by accident.

"You missed," she stated with a half-smile. Her present danger was almost worth it for the feeling that her innate distrust of him was justified.

"I didn't," Light said, tossing the gun to one side. The metal screeched, gouging into the concrete floor as it skidded into the shadows.

"So you are working for L, aren't you?"

"No, I just wanted you to shut up really. That and I've never fired a gun before. I'm surprised. I didn't think you'd be so stupid that you'd give me a loaded gun. We don't have need for them, do we, V? We have better tools."

"You have no right to play with things you don't understand."

"_I_ don't understand?"

Light saw V's eyes move from his to somewhere behind him, looking like the world was collapsing around her. He turned slowly. Behind him a man stood just over the threshold of the door. The man held his gun in the over-trained way of someone to whom guns were a last resort. The gun and his hands were in such a level line to his eyes that it was hard to see the face behind it at first.

"Light, get out of the way!" the man shouted. Light was standing in the way of V, who was clearly the man's target and the outstretched gun in his hands shook slightly. Light realised that it was because at that moment the gun was aimed at him. He smiled at the sign of weakness and looked to V, seeing her reach towards her own her own gun slowly. She was asking his permission. He looked back to the gunman.

"Father," Light said, "I'd say that I was shocked to see you pointing a gun at me, except that I'm not. It's oddly familiar ground."

"Light -"

"L, why is this rushing by so quickly?" Light whispered to a man who wasn't there.

"Come over here," Soichiro shouted. "Get out of the way." Light's smile startled him and he almost forgot where he was. It was smile he'd seen countless times before; at the doorway of his home and the school photographs which lined the walls. It didn't seem possible to see that smile now and for the first time he saw the condescension and sadness in it. He realised that it had always been there. "Please!"

"I can't," his son said, taking a decisive step to one side so V could take his place, but Soichiro's eyes wanted to follow Light. The rush of blood to his head was so thunderous that it deafened him. He felt dizzy and looked down, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them that it would be different. As he opened his eyes to reality to watched the blood soak through his white shirt in a growing stain, one which coloured his hands with an oily red slickness. When Light spoke again, it was with a cold voice. His son was looking at him, his head cocked to one side with a childlike interest. Looking at him like...

"It must be a terrible thing, to be superseded," Light was saying. "I think sometimes you hate me for it. Did you hate me for it?"

"Wh-what?" Soichiro gasped. There was so little air in his lungs.

"Or that thing that people say when their child turns out to be disappointing to them in some way, 'Hate the sin, love the sinner'? Not that I've ever sinned. Isn't it natural though? Just straight forward evolution that the child will be the parent's superior in all senses? We should learn from our parents' mistakes and _be_ better. It's what you want me to do, isn't it? Otherwise, what's the point of all this?" he asked, and Soichiro's lips trembled as his ability to speak had been stolen. Light approached calmly as his father dropped to the floor. "You're not wearing a wire, are you? You blazed a trail because you never thought..." Light's voice faded to nothing by the sudden tenderness of seeing this particular person bleeding beneath him, and he knelt beside him as a gesture. "There's no point now," he said soothingly, his warm hand supporting his father's neck and drawing him away from the cold floor. Soichiro's eyes flickered desperately to see flash frames of blurred images above and around him. He could sense his son, the touch of his hand as it pressed on the strangely numb, damp hole in his chest, and Light's voice whisper in his ear, "I'm giving you this."

Light thought how it could have been different. If his father wasn't always absent from him in so many ways, always. If he never sensed that, as his father's son, perfection was expected, and if only he could honestly believe that his father would stand by him as he sought that perfection. But Soichiro had proved to him that he would only ever get in the way. His reaction to Light's involvement in the case and with L was clear, and if he resented that, he could not support him with what he had to do. Soichiro was a man who fought for justice and thought that he knew what was right, not only for his son, but for other people. That was what Light made into his own twisted inheritance.

Soichiro seemed to mouth, "What are you...?" before Light looked away from the other words if there were any. With Light kneeling over his father, it looked like he was in mourning. Once again his mouth was close to his father's ear.

"Your son is God."

Soichiro's devastated expression could not rival Light's smile of unadulterated pride at his own greatness and sacrifice. Knowing that if his father was more, he would understand this glorious moment. As Soichiro's eyes went glass-like, Light thought for a moment that it was acceptance, and when the eyes rolled back it was like he was simply looking away, but he wasn't there anymore. Light stared at his father's blood soaking through the grey of his already rain sodden suit. It mixed with the skies tears and dripped, diluted, onto the floor. His own hands were covered in blood and he realised that he had left a bloody hand print on his father's face.

"I'm sorry, Light." V's voice was low like a tomb. Light stood, his back towards her as he stared down at his father in death.

"No, it's easier this way," he said, softly, before he turned to face her. "I take it that you don't have the Death Note with you?" he asked, easily, everything forgotten. V steeled and her spine tingled. She had no idea what this creature was.

"Of course not. Foolish I may be. A complete raving idiot I am not. And you're mistaken if you think that I'm the only person that you need to get past to get it, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then I will be forced to bring you down."

"You can try."

"Enough of this pointless rhetoric. What if, let's say, there was something more dear to your heart than this pathetic, idealistic striving? A child perhaps," Light pondered aloud.

"There is no child," V said, so conclusively that had Light not known better, he would have hesitated over his plan.

"There you go again with your fables. Let's be candid with each other for once. We're the only people we can be truly honest with at the moment and we should make the most of it. Denying can get so tiring. You see, I know you have a son. I know about what happened to you; the abuse you suffered at the hands of those criminals and how you killed them. Your bloody vengeance all over the carpet," he scowled. "Then there's the child that came from it, taken in by Wammy's House because you aren't fit to be a mother. Oh, and your recruitment, how you were used like you've always been used. But that could not have upset you too much, I suppose, because you regularly worked for L on various cases until you abruptly disappeared. There must have been a major disagreement which triggered that. In fact, I know that there was. Nothing moralistic since you didn't show any crises of faith on any assassinations before. So, it was all because you were forced to give up your rights to your own child. You threatened and L denied. Do I need to go on?" V didn't answer and Light sighed. "Obviously, I do. I know what you're thinking, and yes, L told me all this. He was very forthcoming. So, you were vetoed in your right to be a mother and this was never going to change. Isn't that where all this Astraea nonsense came from? So much evil in the world and you've experienced it firsthand. Then to find that Wammy and those you had dedicated your life to, saved you and cared for you, were judging you unfit to be a parent. It must have been destroying to not even be allowed to even see your son or have any contact with him. Always forced to watch from a distance by Wammy and L. How could they be a good force? How could they be justice? Am I right?"

"If it was as simple as that then I would think myself most volatile."

"Am I leaving something out? V, first I must say how I sympathise with you. Kira sympathises."

"If there's one thing in life I can do without, it's your sympathy, Kira. You condescending bastard," she spat out.

"Then maybe I should explain so you won't think so badly of me. I had, over the course of a few weeks while he was otherwise incapacitated, access to all of L's resources. I was trying to find out about him, to find out his name," Light sighed, brushing back a swathe of amber hair from his forehead in mock resignation. "But his history is conspicuous by its absence. So either his paranoia knows no bounds, or it really does seem that he was spirited here, fully formed, surfing into port on a scallop shell. I did find out some things about him by way of learning about Wammy's House though. That horrible little institute and its brood of alphabetical orphans. And I always thought Watari such a nice old man. There was quite a hefty file on you, but I'm not surprised considering your colourful past. So I found out all that and L gave me the rest from his own mouth. He betrayed you, V."

"So, you know. What possible difference should it make to me?"

"It struck me that we're working towards the same goal, in a way. However, yours is rooted in a personal vendetta from which there cannot be true judgement. You are, in a word, corrupt. Astraea is corrupt. Kira is impartial and pure."

"You're mad," V retaliated, she reached for her phone.

"I have a feeling that I'm going to get that a lot. No, back to business. You see, I need -" Light began approaching V, who fixed her gun upon him from the first step. "Please, I'm trying to talk to you. Perhaps not very clearly but then there is a gun pointing at me."

"At your head," V clarified, knowing that the specifics would unsettle him.

"At my head," Light repeated. "But listen to me, you're not judgement - I am. You can help me. We want the same things."

"I want nothing of the kind."

"Even so, you'll help me without knowing," he said into her ear, his finger slipping to the trigger, forcing her finger down against the hammer. A shot rang out. Light staggered backwards a few steps, a hand, already crimson, plastered to his forearm. He gasped, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment with the pain.

"What have you done?" V said, the gun in her hand stuck in mid-air.

"Only what was necessary," Light smiled, holding up his arm to show her the blood. "It's just a flesh wound. I'm Mercutio. Perhaps tomorrow they will make worm's meat of me. Not sure what that will make you though," he smiled at the panic which washed over V's face. "Don't worry, it won't happen. I'll be fine," Light mockingly assured her.

"L's coming here isn't he? Isn't he?" she shouted, not that she really needed him to confirm it, because she knew. His way of thinking was not beyond her in conceptualisation, but he was strides ahead in planning and putting it into action.

"I would expect so by now," Light replied, his breathing easing back into a more normal rhythm as he adjusted to the pain. It was strange because since he injured himself willingly, for some reason he didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did. V started backing up as she spoke.

"You're working with him. When you fired before I thought you were shooting at me, but that was the cue for your father wasn't it? And L would know. You knew that he'd come running if he thought that I'd shot you. You fired and then you turned off the microphone link-up. And that -" she pointed to Light's bleeding arm.

"I can't come out of this unscathed. Nobody would ever believe me, would they? Whoever turns up first. Maybe all this is just a trick from your own book?" he said as he pulled off his belt. V stared at it on the floor.

"What? Oh, the belt? Now that _was_ L. He gave these out thinking that he was ever so clever. When you press the buckle it alerts him of your location, like a panic button, I suppose. I played around with the transmitter a bit while I was bored a few weeks ago. I was worried that there might be some way he could use it to find your location whether you wanted him to or not, you know what he's like. I pressed it in the car while your boy was jabbering on like the idiot that he is."

"But your own father..." V said. There was a strange calm at the words, from one side who couldn't imagine such a betrayal of blood, and the other, who didn't see it that way at all. Light looked towards the doorway, half-open, realising that he was more or less in the same spot he was when he father arrived. Everything looked and seemed just as it had been then. For a moment he thought that he could relive the moment again and again with his father, or with other people, in an endless cycle of dying or alternative plotlines. Desensitising illusions had enabled him to live with life.

"L said to me once that to succeed, the king must die. I know my father... knew him. But L won't be here for a while yet. Stay and keep me company while I wait," he said, calmly lowering himself to the ground. V grabbed her bag, scanning the area quickly so she didn't leave any evidence. "I mean it, V," Light added firmly. "You can't leave. You're going to die here. Just you."

V turned slowly to face him. Slowly approaching him and with her gun outstretched again, her face look hardened like carved stone. "Doesn't look that way from where I'm standing. I'm not the one bleeding a swimming pool on the floor," she commented, dryly, walking past his bizarrely seated figure.

"What, this? I think it's stopped bleeding now. I only needed a scrape, just for show, as you know. Thanks for your concern though. So you're going? But aren't you intrigued? I mean, go by all means, I'm not in a position to stop you, but then it'll come to some surprise to you when you and your son both drop down dead." Light heard her footsteps stop suddenly behind him. She turned to see the side of his cruelly handsome face that was lightly spattered with his father's blood, while his own was oozing through his clenched fingers. "I want you to die by the book," he said. "But I'm presented with an obstacle - I don't know your name. I'll tell you the situation and give you a choice. I have a contact listening and when I say the word, or if you kill me, they are one stroke away from writing your son's name in the Death Note."

V stood as though transfixed as a renaissance painting. "Tell me his name. Prove to me that you know his name."

"But I _don't_ know his name. My contact does though; they've seen him with you. They have the Eyes," he said, stringing out the last word like a secret.

"But Amane's dead," V said, hoping perhaps that Light wasn't aware that she knew that.

"Yes, she is dead, so that would be some feat for her wouldn't it? I suppose I must have someone else out there then, mustn't I? Maybe someone you know well, but not well enough."

"Then why don't they know my name."

"Because, V, you're always covering your face, which is silly really. It's quite a nice face in a sallow, anaemic sort of way. Honestly, if you think it could be that easy do you think that I'd go this far? I could have done without this," he said, lifting his arm again. "And, you killed my father." V lifted her gun hand and let the barrel scraped across her forehead. Arguing didn't seem to even enter her mind anymore. Mello was her Achilles heel and she couldn't think straight. All her training, learning, and the years which beat her and made her stronger were lost to her now.

"How do I know that you won't just kill him anyway?" she asked, her agitation was suddenly all too obvious.

"You don't. But I know that you don't want to live in a world in which your son is not alive, in the knowledge that you were responsible for his death having been offered a chance to save it," Light replied, well rehearsed.

"Promise me that you won't hurt him," V said, without lowering the now futile gun. Light was irritated. His vision was growing fuzzy from blood loss and he was conscious that with every second that passed, L was drawing closer and on schedule. He relented.

"You're in no position to ask favours from me. Besides, you'll be dead in less than a minute. What I can say is that out of respect for you and the cruelty you have suffered in your life, I will have mercy by letting him live. He is no obstacle," he offered dismissively since he lost interest a long time ago. V sank to the floor, a few feet away, mirroring Light. Her face had become drawn and pale, making her eyes seem bigger than they were as they dazedly took in Light like a Victorian camera. Her voice was tender, speaking to him now with the tone of sympathetic friend.

"Tell me, Light, if none of this went to plan; if L or someone else beat you, would you die as a martyr or would you choose to save yourself?"

"To give up the Death Note?" he asked. She nodded. Light stared blankly into V's blue eyes. They were lighter than her son's, he thought. "I couldn't say," he said.

"I can. You're a coward, Light Yagami. Your sense of self-preservation is as strong as rat in the desert and you would eat your own young to sustain yourself. You barely deserve to be called a human being."

Light continued to stare at her for a moment without even a flicker of emotion crossing his face. Then, reaching to his back, he retrieved the long hidden, blank Death Note. He opened it to the first page and lay it upon the floor in front of him. V laughed.

"How predictable. I was given to expect more from you, Kira. But it seems that you are just a spoiled child playing with a toy after all."

"Your answer?" Light said. He pulled a silver pen from his breast pocket, placed it on the empty page, and pushed the lot towards V. It was the same brand and style of pen which she had always used. He must have noticed during her time in Kira HQ. He had noticed and thought of everything. V turned her face in defeat for a moment, pressing her chin against her shoulder. Her eyes pressed shut against warm tears. It only took her that long to accept it and by then her tears had dried, having fed her resolution. She reached for the book. Light coughed into his palm. "Goes without saying, but don't try anything stupid, like trying to write my name for instance. If I die, your son dies," Light warned.

V held the pen over the paper, hesitating only for a second before writing as though she was making a meaningless note, not signing away her life. She placed the pen back down neatly upon the book.

"Where is your Death Note, V?" Light asked, matter-of-factly.

"Box 22, Bank of Japan Head Office, Tokyo," she answered without a beat. Immediately afterwards she clasped a hand to her mouth.

Light smiled and reached forwards, turning the Death Note towards himself with a little effort, judging by a sudden rush of pain across his face. "Thank you, V. No..." he said, looking at her name in the book, "Vivienne Keehl," he read aloud.

Without a word of explanation, he opened the back page of the Death Note to explain to V her forced truthfulness by neatly written words - 'Heart attack. Answers all questions honestly before death.'

"The first and last page of the Death Note counts as one page," he explained. "Obviously you didn't think of that. So, 'Keehl'? Now that's a surprise. I thought at least you two would share the same name. Oh well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I did say that we'd be honest, didn't I? As you know, lies are part of our trade and I want you to know this," he said, pulling out a piece of notebook from his inside pocket from which he read, "Mail Jeevas, 12.01am. Suicide." His grin took on an element of smugness. He set the note on fire with a lighter and let it drift away, turning to ash in the air. "Can't be too careful. As you know, destroying the note won't alter his fate. I'm afraid that in, oohhh... 3 hours, he'll be saying goodbye to this cruel world. Good shot, your son, isn't he? As well as annoying? And soon L will arrive to see you properly dead this time. Astraea will arrive to see proof that you tried to murder me, and your regrettable suicide because you couldn't bear to give up your power to Kira. And my father, a man who had tried to apprehend you, killed by a bullet from your gun."

"No... no friend with the Eyes then..." V whispered.

"Not any more. But although all names from the Wammy coven are nowhere to be found, L's doing I'm guessing, Mail's was given to me freely. By your own secretary nonetheless, and with very little persuasion."

"And you think that L won't kill you now? When he sees what you've done?" V coughed.

"I'm sure. I trust him. I trust him with my life, literally. But then I suppose we'll find out in a few minutes. Well, I will in any case," Light said, pressing his clean hand to the wound somewhere under his blood soaked shirt.

"You and I both know that there is no true justice to be delivered by the hands of men. What a tragedy you are, Light Yagami. You sold you soul and you're going to the same place as I am. And you're not going to win."

She felt something inside her stop and start. Spluttering. Like trying to start a car motor in cold weather. But she smiled sourly as her eyes closed. Mello's real name was still a secret and he was safe because it was Matt, the boy Light had seen and believed was V's son, who had been sentenced to die, not Mello. When it mattered, she hadn't failed him.

V lay down on her side, turning her eyes away from the seated man in front of her. Her blood stilled.

* * *

"Over here, I've found him! Chief! Chief!" Matsuda's hysterical cry could strip paper from walls and Light inwardly recoiled from the sound. Matsuda ran to Soichiro's body. It was clear he was one of those people who couldn't accept the clear proof that dead bodies offered so he started panicking and fumbling around the corpse like a fool.

"Where's Light?" Aizawa said, looking around too quickly and not noticing Light in the shadows.

"Aizawa-san, please check on V."

That voice. He'd willed himself to stay just to hear it, and it was as calm as a cello. He watched the slight frame move slowly, pausing to look from a distance at Soichiro's body, and then V's body, surveying the damage.

And I gave you my ugly heart. You hardly seem worth it, Light thought. Then L saw him.

"Kira-kun, you've come back to us."

Aizawa, who was checking V's pulse, looked up at L and thought, not for the first time, that he had gone insane. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the corners of the room, he saw who L was addressing.

"Light, are you ok? What happened?" Matsuda asked, the distress ripping through his voice. Aizawa shone a torch upon Light who closed his eyes reluctantly from the brightness.

"V's dead, Ryuzaki," Aizawa said, giving L the Death Note.

"_Looks_ like suicide," L said. "Her handwriting," he elaborated, but Aizawa as his audience was focused on the survivor whose blood covered shirt and drained face spoke volumes of horror. Light didn't look living somehow and Aizawa was annoyed with himself for being rooted to the spot.

"Light, you're bleeding," he said.

"But is it his blood?" L's monotone, annoyingly emotionless voice made it seem that he was just watching a detective film. Aizawa's temper flared up quickly to Light's defence.

"Of course it's his!"

"Hard to tell with so much blood around. Nothing is as it seems," L replied, unmoving. His eyes like two dark marbles in which Light was reflected.

"What is wrong with you? His father's dead. Can't you see he's in shock or don't you care?"

"I'm sorry," L apologised, but clearly didn't mean it. "Are you in shock, Kira-kun? Matsuda-san, leave Yagami-san alone. He's dead. Go and keep watch outside."

"No!" Matsuda practically screeched, broken by everything. He folded his jacket under Soichiro's head and closed the dead eyes.

"Fine. Aizawa-san, keep watch outside. Kira-kun, terrible weather isn't it?"

"For fuck's sake, Ryuzaki stop calling him that. What are you..." Aizawa shouted, falling quiet with the rising sound of Light's laugh which echoed like a scream in an amphitheatre. He laughed so hard he thought he wouldn't stop. He thought he might die of it.

Aizawa made a move to go to him, to comfort him, but L touched his arm. "I wouldn't go near him, Aizawa-san. He's a very dangerous man," he said.

"What?"

"Phone the NPA for backup."

"And an ambulance?"

"That would be pointless given that everyone who was in need of one is now dead. Maybe we should ask Kira-kun whether he foresees that we might be needing one shortly. Best be prudent."

"Stop it! Just stop it. The Chief's dead!" Matsuda cried.

"What do you think of that, Kira-kun? Your father is dead."

"You evil- !" Matsuda Stood quickly and started running towards L. Aizawa restrained him and his flying fists. The living touch only went to make Matsuda's tears stream harder down his face like it was he who had lost a father, while Light was marble.

A group of people in black entered the building. They carried rifles, like a firing squad, but neither Light or L looked at them. A tall man stepped ahead of the rest and upon seeing Light, he removed his black mask.

"Put down your weapons," he said to Matsuda and Aizawa, who pathetically threw their guns to the ground seeing no alternative. "Kami-sama?" the man said quietly to Light, like a prompt, or a saint who couldn't believe that he was seeing God. He'd seen the bodies and didn't understand. Light coughed to wake himself from whatever stupor he'd allowed himself since L arrived.

"She tried to killl me. She missed... it hit my arm. Then she killed my father and herself. I couldn't stop her," he said, simply, but with a cracked voice. The man seemed easily satisfied with this and silently ordered two armed men to check on the bodies.

"Killed herself?" L repeated. "That doesn't sound like V. Matsuda, check the body again and make sure that it's not an impersonator. We seem to be rife with people pretending to be innocent or the other way around." The man who had addressed Light as 'Kami-sama' eyed L steadily for a split second before breezily making his mind up about what action was appropriate.

"Shoot that man," he said. It made Light start.

"No!" he shouted. It sounded too much like pleading.

"Kami-sama," the man replied, "these people have seen your face. They cannot be allowed to live." Light hated this and regained his normal self-assurance from it.

"How dare you tell me who is to live and who is to die and when," he said, with a frightening coldness.

"Kami-sama. Forgive me." The tall man bowed in apology, and his hair fell forwards, covering his face for a moment. L watched with interest.

"Apparently he's mistaken you for God, Kira-kun," he said. "Must be your aftershave." Light's eyes shot back him.

"Tie them up," Light ordered, calmly. Mikami took the command as a sign that he was forgiven He slowly stood straight and approached Light like he half expected to be told to stay away. He tentatively observed the wound of his god's arm as he silently offered Light his long coat and jacket which Light, with equal silence, accepted. "But not him," Light added, meaning L.

"The police call-out has been cancelled, Kami-sama," Mikami stated, thinking it of interest.

"Good," Light said, taking some cuffs off a man. He approached L. He was barely a foot away from him now, and more quickly than he expected. He didn't understand how he and time could pass with an unexpected tempo sometimes.

"This is all rather humiliating, Kira-kun. I think I prefer that gentleman's idea of being shot," L said, his voice clearer with nearness.

"You don't have a gun, do you?" Light asked.

"That nice man with the AK-47 kindly relieved me of it."

"Then you realise your situation is pretty dire at best."

"Yes, you've surprised me, Kira-kun. Well done."

"I could kill you right now, you know," Light smiled. L almost smiled back, because he knew him.

"But that wouldn't be any fun."

"This has gone past being fun," he answered, struggling a little as L's eyes suddenly flickered over his face like he was trying to search his mind.

"Light, don't you feel like we've gone both forwards and backwards at the same time?" L said, dreamily.

"I'm going forwards. You're going to stay exactly where you are," Light replied.

"I never thought I'd be dead at twenty five. I wonder if you'll reach twenty-five, Kira-kun."

"Does the idea that I won't make you feel a little better?"

"I don't know."

"Well, cheer up. You might see twenty-six."

"Can I deduce from that that you're planning on letting us live?"

"That's entirely up to you at the moment."

"You want to handcuff me," L said. His tone suggested that he wasn't really willing to comply, but Light moved towards him anyway. "How did it feel to kill your father?" L asked, and Light knew that he was deliberately trying to break him. He didn't answer, but he was shaking, or shivering, while he fumbled with the cuffs and knelt down to shackle L's ankles together. "Kira-kun?" L prompted. "You killed your father."

"You know I didn't."

"Yes you did. You set this up and you let V kill him, didn't you? Because V had no choice and Yagami-san was trying to save you when you didn't want to be saved. People keep trying to save you, Light. Now your father is dead and you might as well have done it yourself. And yet you feel nothing."

"Put your wrists behind your back."

"Do you mind if I don't? L, Kira, and handcuffs don't mix terribly well, we've established that."

The reminder of a time before this warehouse made Light more gentle towards him as he whispered. "L, you can relax. I'm not going to let them kill you. Any of you."

"I'm perfectly relaxed, Kira-kun. You could say I am experiencing a deathly calm," L said, brutally, and Light was startled by it. For some reason he expected some small tenderness in return for his. "But don't let me rain on your parade, Kira-kun," L continued. "If you want to enjoy your moment then go ahead. You've earned it. We're in an abattoir and you've killed two people, one of which is your - "

"That's enough. Now, put your wrists behind your back."

"You know Light, I really am starting to wish that you'd killed me when I came back to find you sitting in the bedroom, scribbling away like Doctor Death."

Light was distracted by the way L went back and forth on what to call him and he didn't know why. He wasn't even sure if L was aware of it. "Stop trying, L" he said, keeping his voice so quiet that it was only for L to hear it. "I don't want them to guess who you are."

"Do you think that they believe that I'm just some man who has wandered in that 'god' has taken it upon himself to tie up and have a long chat with? You're holding my hand by the way. They know who I am. And trying? I stopped trying long ago where you are concerned. I'm just struggling to take in what you've done and what you really are. Kira is one thing, but this is something else entirely."

"This is what I had to do, you made it this way. Those deaths are your fault. But then, you never really knew me."

"I know what you are now and, in all honesty, I'm not sure whether I want another birthday if it's something you're allowing me to have. I know that I have solved this case. I was right. I won and that is enough for me."

"_You've_ won? If you want to believe that, then do. But it's not enough for you, is it?" Light said. It made him smile again.

"Why did you give me your watch?" L whispered.

"Oh, so you know about that? I did wonder. I gave you proof so you couldn't find it yourself."

"That's not the reason."

"Maybe not." He stared at L's hands weakly gripping a hold of his sleeve as he cuffed his wrists together. When he looked up again his eyes were strangely silvered. "You did break my heart you know. So maybe you have won," he said quietly.

"You don't have a heart to break."

"Not anymore," Light agreed. He briefly cradling the side of L's face with his hand. "So thank you."

As Light moved away, L reached for him, his cuffed hands like a vice keeping him there. Light let him and did what L wanted, he leaned towards him.

L whispered in his ear.

Light took a moment to realise what L had done and furiously pushed him away. He tried to gauge where the battle lines were now, or if there were any left at all. In those words they were both emancipated and there was nothing left. Nothing. As he walked away, the masked people stood aside like a parting sea before following him.

When L lost sight of Light he wanted to shout any hurtful thing he could think of after him, but a corseted feeling in his chest stopped him. And then Light was gone. Soon there were only bodies of people he once almost trusted as proof of his failure while he, Aizawa and Matsuda were tied up and ridiculous. The heavy door closed roughly. Metal screaming against metal.

* * *

11:39pm

Matt, Mail Jeevas, rose from the couch where he had been sitting, uncomfortably but uncomplaining, with Mello crying and then fitfully sleeping on his lap for the past hour. Losing feeling in his legs and satisfied that Mello was sleeping as well as he could, Matt gently moved away and slipped into the cool night air to light a cigarette. He was tired. Tired in every way, not least from physically restraining Mello from tearing apart the world and himself, or at least smashing every stick of furniture they owned once they got word of V's death.

Someone from Astraea had phoned Matt as he was dozing and the message was curt and perfunctory, but enough. He regretted leaving her but in that moment, in a terrible way, he was thankful that he had. Most of all, he was unsurprised. Then Mello was looking at him expectantly and he had to figure out how to tell him.

At first, Mello only wanted to know how she'd died. He stood there, staring at him, and Matt almost believed that he had accepted it as calmly as he had. Matt hadn't asked 'how' during the phone call because he knew that Kira had killed her, and didn't want to admit all these things to Mello yet. Maybe he never would because it was so intertwined with himself. He'd left her there to die and Mello would never forgive him if he knew. Everything was more dangerous than it ever had been. He told Mello that they didn't know yet. Something had gone wrong. It really had.

Strangely, Mello believed him and didn't ask for more. Perhaps he was used to the vague excuses by now, or maybe he realised it didn't really matter and had been half-expecting it anyway. But then Mello wanted to see her. He raged against it all and Matt for denying him that right. Matt fought the feeling, the same one he had months ago when Astraea killed everyone they knew, that they should put many miles between themselves and where they now stood, and soon. But for now, Mello's mother was dead.

Matt had been concerned by Mello and V's instant attachment from that start, and the indelible love Mello had for her, though he pretended that he didn't. Matt had felt threatened by it and by her. Now that she was dead he feared it all the more. There had been more than one occasion when he'd pissed up against a urinal and pondered how life had been before V had stormed into their lives. He wished that she hadn't. She'd taken Mello from him. Matt had been sure that he had been the sole concern of Mello's, although he was certain that Mello selfishly held himself as the priority, but Matt was fine with that. He factored in. Then the matriarch had arrived and she was like a bomb blast. Mello would apparently bend over, do a back flip and jump off a high-rise just to please her or get her attention. Matt had never asked Mello to do any of those things for him. He was the one who did the bending over for _him, _literally, and in all kinds of ways, because he loved him and that's what people do.

And now V had gone as suddenly as she'd arrived. It was wrong, but Matt was grateful that she was dead. If she loved Mello, she should have stayed away in the first place. At least she left before she could do any more damage and warp Mello into something that was as twisted as a tree against sea storms, like herself. Mello's heart imploded and like a dying star he was likely to try and take out everything else within radius before he finished. Matt would prevent that, however he could.

He gazed at the violent orange burning the paper of his cigarette, the ashes become dust in the wind, then particles, then nothing. He grimaced as he reached inside his pockets to roll another, fishing out the spongy filter and depositing a healthy line of anxiety-killing leaves on the paper, creating a slow death with the strange origami.

Maybe they should leave tomorrow. He should dope Mello up and take him somewhere so far away and so unlike here. Somewhere where Mello couldn't be tempted to go all _Lady Snowblood_. Yes, and let Astraea fold. Let it die. Kira could have it.

He heard a bell see in the hour somewhere nearby, and listened to the chimes as he blew a cloud into the sky. An internal shudder ripped through him, and he thought that it was was because of a sudden cool breeze, though there was no breeze. He didn't realise what he'd done. He felt like he'd just woken up, like he'd closed his eyes for a moment, coming to with a shock. There was blood pouring down his chest from his throat. His penknife was in his hand with more blood shining on the blade. A rigour stretched out his fingers and he dropped the knife. The cigarette fell from paling lips and hit the floor at the same time as Matt fell to his knees. His arm outstretched towards the glass which separated him from Mello, still curled on the couch, with his closed swollen eyes shaded by blond wisps of hair. Matt slammed his hand against the glass.

* * *

Mello stirred, and rubbed at his itching eyes, blinking. He sat up and hated the stillness. The remembrance had hit him hard; that painful recollection after sleep. He rose to his feet and the pain in his head rocked his sense of balance so he grabbed out at the back of a chair for support. He thought Matt must be in the bathroom, or had gone to bed. Fucker. But there was no tell-tale mug of coffee, no smell of smoke, no lights and a DS sitting mournfully on the table.

"Matt?"

God, but his own voice was horrible to hear. A shard of blue light across his pale arm tore his focus towards the open window and the manmade stars set in perfect concrete lines, cold against the darkness. Dreamlike, his gaze followed the lights sprawl across the skyline and dim to the horizon like an organized chaos of wild creation. Something else caught his attention - the slumped, still form, like it was part of the floor. The flash of a long t-shirt sleeve flutter like a broken wing.

The red hair.

* * *

**A/N** Bullets by Archive. This. Song. It's very Light-ish.

{EDIT} Probably a good moment to discuss V, not that anyone cares. It's really a defence of OCs. Now, I know that they have a bad reputation because sometimes they're a Mary Sue and annoying, or an obvious case of the author inserting themselves in the story, and again, annoying, but I hope you didn't find V to be too much like that. When plotting this mess out, she started out as Naomi Misora, but then I had the idea of an ex-Wammy being mad _and_ Mello's mother, and that's when V became the anti-Naomi. Since I knew from the start that I wasn't going to try and write something incredibly canon in terms of characterisation, and since I take this as seriously as an episode of _Thundercats_, I didn't see why I shouldn't throw an OC in. But yeah, it bothers me that people might think that she's me, or some mythical version of me. Truly, V and I share absolutely nothing apart from one of my middle names being her first name, and that's only because Ian Fleming got to 'Vesper' first and I didn't think that she suited 'Veronica' or something like that. Also, 'Vivienne' means 'alive' and I thought that it was funny because, oh look, she's dead. As someone on tvtropes worked out, V is for Vendetta. She has one.

I had trouble trying to understand/like her, since she's so bonkers and almost as difficult to work out as Light is, in a way. She was inspired partly on a short film called _Svetlana's_ _Journey_, which is about a victim of sex trafficking, and revenge films like _Lady Snowblood_, which got a mention. At one point, Mello's father was going to be A, but I discarded that because it doesn't fit in with the canon timescale, and also in favour of a more troubled back story. She needed something in her past which would bring in a little sympathy for why she does what she does. Characters who are evil or do evil things can't just be explained by 'they were just born that way'. I think that if she'd lived past this point, she probably would have redeemed herself a little by ending up siding with L against Kira/Astraea. Bless 'er.

Oh, and MATT!

And that's enough of that. Many, many thanks for the reviews, good, bad, indifferent – it's all nice.

To my kittenkins twin and you all, thank you for reading. xxxx


	20. A Short Film About Killing

**Chapter 20 **

** A Short Film About Killing**

_Because I always feel like running. __Not away, because there's no such place._

_Because if there was, I would have found it by now. __Because it's easier to run._

_Easier than staying and finding out you're the only one, who didn't run. _

_Because running will be the way your life and mine will be described,_

_As in, 'the long run' or a__s in, 'having given someone a run for their money' or a__s in, 'running out of time'._

_Because running makes me look like everyone else, though I hope there will never be cause for that._

_Because I will be running in the other direction, n__ot running for cover._

_Because if I knew where cover was, __I would stay there and never have to run for it._

_Not running for my life, b__ecause I have to be running for something of more value to be running, and not in fear._

_Because the thing I fear cannot be escaped, eluded, avoided, hidden from, protected from, gotten away from, _

_Not without showing the fear, as I see it now. B__ecause closer, clearer, no-sir, nearer_

_Because of you, and because of that nice, t__hat you quietly, quickly be causing_

_And because you're going to see me run soon _

_And because you're going to know why I'm running then,_

_You'll know then, because I'm not, _

_Going to tell you_

_Now. _

Running ~ Gil Scott-Heron

* * *

There was a tree which grew out of a wall below Light's window. It looked like it was bursting through but was probably holding the whole sorry mess together at the same time. It twisted like a cobra. Violent attempts to kill it, the blunt sliced ends to thick trunks just led to many children; thinner branches crawling upwards. It refuses to die. In the summer it had purple flowers.

* * *

A blond man who had always been one step behind had tried every hotel in Tokyo and had the feeling he had just missed what he was looking for. Sometimes he saw a woman with light hair watching him from inside a car. At first he had mistaken her for someone else. His heart stopped every time he saw a man with red hair and he was taken back to the time when he held a dead boy in his arms. Just a pencil mark of a body really, though once it had been much more. He had held it until the sun rose, and then he gathered his things in a bag and left, leaving the door open. Because there was nothing he could do.

Since then, he searched. He had named every bullet in his gun but he hadn't found who he was looking for and months had passed. He didn't sleep because there was no peace there. He spent his time outside mostly, or near windows, forever looking for providence to help him because no one and nothing else had so far, not ever. He kept seeing the woman. He knew her face now. He'd approach her but she always drove off before he reached her. She found him, but he never found her.

Meanwhile, Kira was everywhere. He had taken over the authorities, the media. Everything had fallen beneath his wheels as he passed through. Most people didn't notice much difference to their day to day lives, they just had more incentive to be good citizens. The world was a safer place, they told themselves, and only bad people had anything to worry about. Obviously not many people considered themselves bad. Mello just watched it happen from the sidelines like everyone else in their helplessness. He realised how incapable he was to take on Kira, mostly because he didn't know where to start. No one knew where Kira was or who he was. He was the archetypal bodiless, overseeing god of all things and the world was a play set. So Mello focused on someone he could find.

There were only so many hotels. It usually took him several days to establish whether L was staying there or not before he moved on. He prayed that L was still in Tokyo, though he had more than enough reason to leave. If he couldn't find him... well, he _would_ find him. Once he wouldn't have been so patient, but time meant little now. Sometimes it was light outside and sometimes it was dark.

Another hotel. He stood on the opposite side of the street and weighed up the building. 'Was this the one? What was the likelihood of L staying here?' He crossed the road and walked up to the reception. He looked out of place against the men and women in business suits or uniforms, but people generally didn't take any notice of anyone in these places anyway. The receptionist, a man in his late thirties and heavily starched, looked up and seemed surprised by Mello's sudden appearance. He expected trouble because Mello looked like every dictionary's definition of trouble. Despite his reticence, the man's politeness was ingrained to the core.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I need a room," Mello replied. The receptionist looked shocked at the very idea. "Yes, I do, really." he continued, pushing a credit card across the desk. "Maybe you should keep it incase I run off with your best silver." The man coughed and took the card.

"Single or double?"

"Let me see your screen."

"I'm sorry?"

"I want to see what rooms you have available. Your screen tells you that doesn't it?"

"Yes, uh."

"I'm very fussy about the view," Mello explained, taking the liberty of turning the computer screen to face him. One floor in the whole building was completely blocked out red, floor 65. "This one," he said, pointing at one of the red rooms on floor 65. It was always best to play stupid. The receptionist leaned over the desk to see the screen.

"I'm sorry sir, that room is taken."

"Is that what red means? So that whole floor's taken, yeah? Why's that then?"

"I believe it has been booked out for a conference."

"The whole floor. Wow. Well then, this one will do," Mello said, stabbing with his finger, apparently uncaringly, towards another room.

"Certainly. And how long with you be staying?" the man muttered automatically while swiping Mello's credit card.

"A few days."

"And will someone be joining you?"

"I doubt it."

"Right. Well, everything seems to be in order," he said, his expectations dashed by a healthy credit card balance. "Here's your key, Sir. Would you like any help with your bags?" Which was strange, because Mello only had the rucksack he was carrying.

"No. Thanks." Trouble took his key, card and a couple of chocolate mints from the courtesy bowl on the desk. As he turned, he caught sight of a dessert trolley coming out of the kitchen and heading towards the elevator. "Hey, hold the lift please!" he shouted, running towards it. The man pushing the trolley couldn't have been very old. He looked startled. Mello had that effect on people.

"I'm sorry, this is a staff lift," the man said. A gelatinous monstrosity topped with a cherry wobbled on the trolley in irritation of the unexpected halt.

"Oh. Ah, come on, I've forgotten my wallet and there's a taxi waiting for me. You'd save me a few of hundred yen if I could get it quickly. What floor are you heading for?

"65"

"What a coincidence, I'm on 65! Come on now, er, Nobu?" Mello said, with a grin after a glance at the man's name badge. "Do you mind if I call you Nobu? How do you like tips, Nobu?" Nobu didn't say anything but pushed the trolley to the side of the lift leaving a space for Mello to fit alongside. "Cheers, Nobu," Mello grinned, pressing some notes into the man's palm as he walked inside. The doors closed, and a strange heaviness pulled at Mello's feet as the lift flew upwards at speed. When the doors opened again, Mello leaped out and walked with purpose in one direction, while Nobu and the trolley went in the other. After a few feet, Mello slowed and looked behind, watching Nobu stop at a particular door and knock, leaving the trolley outside. Mello hid around a corner as the man went back in the lift and disappear. Then he ran to the trolley and the closed door.

He knocked and dumped his bag. To whoever was inside, it would just seem like an impatient trolley dolly. When the door opened, Mello didn't recognise the face behind it but he could spot an agent a mile off. He pointed his gun and smiled. The man looked down at the gun barrel at his chest and just as he drew a ragged, panicked breath to shout, Mello hit him over the head with the gun butt and watched him slide to the floor and slump against the wall, then he stepped over him and into the apartment.

The place was dimly lit. Mello followed the draw of the blue-ish light coming from the far room. As he entered, there was a line of handguns pointed at him like eyes. He felt special.

"Mello," a deep voice greeted him from behind an high-backed office chair. Of course. Mello cocked his gun at the sound and the men pointing guns in his direction followed suit.

"Turn around so I can see you," Mello said. He'd found him. He saw the gun shaking before him in his hand. Why was he was shaking? He hardly recognised his own voice, it sounded so harsh and taut.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to find me. I was thinking that you never would. In fact, I didn't think you were trying. My security is certainly getting slack. No shooting, please. No one is to shoot him," he cautioned his team directly.

"Turn around, L," Mello ordered again. He hardly gave time for him to respond before he shot at the legs of the chair his target was occupying. L sighed, reluctantly put some footage he was looking at on pause and slowly spun around in his chair to face Mello. He looked the same as the last time they saw each other. No better, no worse.

"Mello, please don't shoot the furniture," he said.

"I'm going to shoot more than the furniture."

"Is that all you want to do, shoot me? If I was in your shoes, I'd want answers first, corpses later."

"You know why I'm here. I know the answers and there's nothing you could tell me. I know what happened."

"I doubt it. Put the gun down. You too Matsuda-san. You cannot understand how ridiculous you look."

"It's your fault," Mello shouted. He didn't realise he was shouting until then. Someone stood up next to L. He was twirling a lock of his hair and generally looked like a spectre in a crèche. He was all white and with eyes which were completely untroubled, like L's. Bastard.

"Yes. Yes it is my fault," L agreed softly. It made Mello laugh. L and Near and himself all in the same room with violence within the pull of a trigger.

"Good," Mello said in the face of the blasé admission of guilt. "Go on then, tell me your version of what happened. Tell me why."

"Kira happened, Mello."

"That's it? That's all you have? I thought you were supposed to be a great detective or something. Jesus Christ, are you really all that everyone was training to live up to? 'Kira happened'? Any drunk tramp on the street could tell me that. Kira has taken over this shithole."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. What the hell is sorry? Sorry doesn't begin to cover it."

"You blame me. I understand," L said. He looked tired now, as if he'd been sorry to everyone he met for months.

"Well fucking done, genius."

"You blame me. You're right to and you're right to want to kill me, but I didn't kill V and Matt, Mello. Killing me won't be beneficial in any way and you won't get anywhere without me. We can't change what happened."

"You failed. You're a... a disappointment," Mello spat, struggling to find the right words. The most hurtful.

"I know."

"So fall on your sword, you bastard."

"That would be pointless. It's not over yet."

"It is for you."

"But Kira is still alive."

"Yes, because you failed. This isn't a game, L. They weren't disposable. All these people who died because of you. All the lives you've ruined. You gave hope to people while taking their lives away little by little. If you couldn't beat him, you should have just let him do this months and months ago. Did you hold him up? Is that all you managed to do? They died because Kira beat you. You can't come back from this."

"It's not over until Kira is dead, Mello. You know that. You're fairly good at barging into hotel rooms and pointing guns, but do you really think that's all you need to defeat Kira?"

"It's worked so far in defeating L, not that that seems a particularly hard thing to do. I literally walked in here. I can't believe you're still alive. Aren't you ashamed? Anyone else wouldn't be able to live with it."

"I live to defeat Kira. I live because I'm justice and more so now than ever before. I'm alive because Kira allowed it. So yes, I'm ashamed, but I must finish this. It's not revenge. You can never win if you're driven by revenge or some vague urge for atonement. I'm well aware of the mistakes I made. I made them despite my better judgement. I want justice, Mello. I have and always have had the ability to defeat Kira but I wasn't able to until now."

"Yeah? And what's so different now?"

"You're here."

* * *

In the unnatural light of the bathroom, and a black beast behind me. I look in the mirror and see a smile that makes me frightened of myself and the beast laughs. I take a close up of the amber of my eyes and I wonder how you could stand it. I say something beautiful while thinking of something ugly. Or the other way around. It varies.

Saying things aloud strips the meaning. You gave yourself to a terrible man when you're the terrible man. Don't raise yourself above me with your false morals. I am the moral.

Let me reconstruct it. We were happy. Here. When there was no need for forgiveness because there was no crime, only joy at finding an equal. We were both so happy about it in the end. I don't care what you look like, I never did. We didn't deserve the forgiveness that was offered.

Tell me it won't end though it's ended. There are so many things that I'm not allowed to tell you. Tell me you love me. Tell me you don't hate me. Tell me nothing else matters to you and that you don't miss those faces I killed. I was trying to kill your past for you. And besides, they stood too close to us. I was clearing my view of you. I wanted to tell you without confessing, so I did, and I'm sorry because I think it killed you. I wanted to prove that you didn't matter in this great scheme of things I'm creating. I wanted to hear your thoughts and not be a part of them. It's such a simple thing. You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so you gave me your name instead. Now it's checkmate again, or a dare, but I won't move and the clock keeps time for us. Chase after me. Throw me down. Cover my body with yours and all the apologies. That's what I want. Greedy isn't it? I promise not to move again if you keep me there.

I'm sorry I stole more from you than you were willing to give. You didn't intend for this to happen. I seduced you and left you ruined, you sad thing. But what I do is righteousness whole. It's not my fault that you couldn't see that, so I wish my tears were yours though I can't cry for you. You were such a beautiful room. I walk through and create the future. I float in the present. I live in the past.

I'm sorry. Sorry for the accident in slow motion, I can still hear it. How do you feel today? What do you think now?

* * *

Three men sitting in a row. One detective proper and two detectives-in-waiting. A week before, Mello had been pointing a gun at L's head one minute, the next they were sitting opposite each other in floral armchairs drinking coffee while Mello cooled to a slow boil and L explained what he and his team had been doing and how Mello could help them. ust how would they catch Kira? L didn't seem sure. He spoke as though he was hunting a rare and precious animal which had escaped him. Mello used the word 'kill', correcting L's 'catch'. Ultimately he agreed to stay and aid the investigation while making it perfectly clear that there was no forgiveness. L had V's and Matt's blood on his hands as far as Mello was concerned, though they were never spoken of. He moved into the team's apartment and was currently sitting next to L.

"Have you read Freud, Mello?" L asked.

"Nope. I hate psychology."

"Yes, you have," Near stated as a matter of fact and Mello glared at him. If a tiger was looking at a person in the same way, that person would have reason to be concerned.

"Hey? What's that, little white dishcloth?" Mello cooed.

"We read Freud and Jung at school. Third year. It was part of the curriculum. You scored 87% on the exam, I scored 90%. I think Mrs Storrs falsified the results. I don't believe that I answered any question incorrectly, especially since it was mostly a matter of interpretation."

"All of that might be true and it's also creepy of you to know my score, but it doesn't mean that I read it. Maybe I just read the York Notes version. So shut up."

"V liked philosophy," L said, it was hard to say whether he heard Mello's and Near's spats anymore, or ever. "One day I'll tell you more about it. I only mention it because... I don't know why I mention it. But she took philosophy on because of someone who had died."

"Who?"

"Didn't she tell you anything about herself? Did you just accept her as she was?"

"I didn't really get the chance to chat to her, did I?"

"No. I suppose you didn't."

"So tell me."

"One day. The future holds less and less for me as I go on. I'll have nothing to talk about but the past one day." Mello looked at L sadly though L hardly ever said things with a particularly emotional tone. Everything was said plainly and without regret or sadness. It was simply how it was. So Mello said what he was thinking.

"What happened to that guy? The one who was with you that night I called."

L looked up at the ceiling and exhaled. "I wasn't referring to him."

"I know, I was just wondering."

"He left."

"Left or died?"

"A bit of both."

"Can you never give a straight answer?"

"When I want to and if it's any of your business, yes. Your anger brings absolutely nothing to this investigation. Your lack of respect is something I have limited patience for. All in all, your attitude is something you have taken on as a offering to the dead."

"Y'know, I mostly think that I'm angry for my own sake, actually. You wouldn't understand."

"'How bold people are when they are sure of being loved.' That's what Freud said. And I would add how broken they are when left wondering if it was all a lie. You were assured of being loved. Your anger drives you but that's only part of it. You're angry because it was taken from you. You feel like you owe those who died for you. You want justice for yourself against the murderer, but you were loved and you're sure of it and it remains. It must be nice. But then, I wouldn't understand."

"Oh please," Mello sighed, his eyes doing a round trip in their sockets. "I've just eaten and I didn't want to see my lunch again so soon."

"Think about it later. It's strange, I wonder if all I'll leave behind are words. I used to hope for something greater."

"Maybe you should write a book. A comedy. Or a self-help guide. I just don't get where your motivation is coming from. I mean, it seems to me that it's coming from a weird place. Like you're doing it even though you don't want to. Like you're not interested."

"Oh. And your motivation is pure and heartfelt, I suppose? You're doing this for the children of tomorrow."

"I've never said that. 'All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players' and I couldn't give a shit about any of them to be honest. So what is your motivation?"

"Another stupid question."

"It's just it leads me to think that you don't really believe that you'll catch Kira."

"It's not about catching Kira now. It's about toppling an empire."

"Your 'empire' will bleed out just as fast as anyone else. It's a case of finding him and killing him. He doesn't need any more poetic myth-making."

"Agreed," Near said. "Although we should secure him for study's sake, then execute him after a trial perhaps. A trial might just invite reprisals though, in which case we should revert back to standard practice where a war criminal is concerned."

"So easy," L sighed.

"Yeah, it's that easy," Mello said, feeling himself heat up with that simmering anger which was always so close to the surface. "See, this is the kind of defeatist attitude I've come to expect from you, L. Just because you fucked up doesn't mean it can't be put right. I think we should learn from your mistake of dilly-dallying and just get it over with."

"I didn't... dilly-dally."

"Sorry but you really did and for a year. Look how it worked out."

"Mello, your anger towards me, however justified, is becoming tiresome."

"Agreed," Near added. Mello turned on him.

"You agree with whoever you think is winning at any one time!"

"I don't. I judge by the facts," Near replied.

"No, you want to capture Kira and cuddle him in a prison cell and when you're satisfied you'll kill him and study what's left. What's going on here? Does everyone has a boner for Kira? He's a mass murderer. Fucking loony town. I don't understand why this is so difficult to accept. Black. White. We need to find him and kill him, like you've always done, L."

"Leaving the world in complete chaos."

"That's someone else's problem. For Christ's sake, you're a detective, not the bloody Dalai Lama."

"Detectives detect."

"And justice must be exacted, isn't that the end goal? You seem to have forgotten that."

"Mello, not too long ago your motivation was dubious at best, as were the sides you chose. Your indignation now is based on revenge which is dressed up as bravado. You have no moral high-ground over me. A level head is what is required."

"And you are so _very_ level headed."

L looked straight into Mello's eyes with a flicker of anger which was rarely shown throughout his life. "I didn't live this long and achieve the status I have for you to nag at me like an old woman. Get back in your box."

"Agreed," Near said. Mello rolled his eyes and shouted at him.

"Will you shut up!"

* * *

Mikami smiled at the girl and took the newspapers. His too white teeth bore down in a carnivorous bite which might pass for a smile for some people. The girl accepted it gratefully but Light could see right through him, like how L could see right through the acting. Always did. Even when Light didn't know himself that he was acting. There was a lot to take in. There was a god of death hovering behind his shoulder at all times. He was a god on earth himself and had what he wanted. He was allowed understand what no one should understand. He was so fortunate, but then, he had been chosen, hadn't he? There was no such thing as chance.

I swallow your heart, took it with me, and made a space for it, only to cover it over with branches and leaves. Perhaps you want it back? Perhaps you're better off without it. You're right where you started, before me. The world holds no mystery for me now.

Mikami waited while Light sat down behind his desk in the large office. He could see his bed from there, already made up by some girl in a uniform and apron. Mikami was still waiting and Ryuk started laughing. Light gestured lazily for Mikami to come closer, conceding to allow him into his room.

There was something about Mikami, Light thought. He felt like he was looking at himself sometimes, in another life. He seemed so unperturbed by everything that Light wanted to be like him. Knowing that Mikami wanted to be him. And now the man stood in front of the window so the hazy sunlight glanced over his silhouette and flattered him. He stood there on purpose. The light bleached out the colour so he was just dark hair and grey eyes and Light wanted to sleep with him. He felt that steady gaze upon him and saw the way he barely moved apart from the pulse in his throat. He wanted to rough him up, make him unkempt, make his skin clammy and tense. He wanted to see if he could have that effect on him.

Mikami's lips were tight, like he knew what Light was thinking. Light's head pounded like the sound of a door repeatedly slamming. He was thinking of snow. The pain in his head was like driving bullets. Then falling snow. A sense of being smothered and taking it gratefully for the peace it gives. Now Mikami was tapping his pen. It was soothing.

Light was tired though the day had just begun. His morning started with telling people around a table what to do and why. Six months before he had had exhausting denials. Now he had honesty and the equally exhausting explanations.

They had swapped places. Light was Kira and L was in hiding, lying, and keeping his secrets close.

"Kira-sama?"

"What is it, Mikami?"

He didn't answer. He was calling Kira back but he couldn't be bold enough to say so. It would be pointing out a weakness in god and he had no right. They didn't have that kind of relationship. He was an unquestioning disciple. Mikami shuffled through pieces of paper for no reason other than anxiety working in a painful silence. Light's mind didn't run as quickly as it could do. He was slowing it down by combining chemicals and thinking of other things, times, places, people. Meanwhile Mikami looked concerned and thoughtful, keeping Light his sole focus over the rim of his glasses. Of course he had no idea what Light was thinking. He wasn't L. He wouldn't even allow himself to hazard a guess.

The Light of 2 years before wouldn't be stumbling if he were here. He struggled to identify with that person now. It was someone who seemed quite far away in many respects. He rarely had trouble sleeping before, even in the beginnings of his troubles when he could feel a faceless letter slowly boxing him in like a torture. It was hard to forget about someone when their habits became your own. Just at the time when he had to focus all his energy upon the greatest tasks, he found his mind wandering back to a practically empty building which housed a few ant-like detectives. When he was happier than he ever expected to be, while denying, evading, and leading people around a labyrinth of his own creation. At least it had kept his mind sharp, he thought, though it was of little use now. Everything was done for him. He viewed the real world through what Mikami told him and through the biased televised news which he controlled. Politics removed him from his game.

He realised that he had been staring at the burr wood veneer of his desk while his thoughts wandered uselessly. He studied his palms but wouldn't know his life lines, scrubbed clean as they were. The light changed. The room changed. Grey like the clouds outside. Would it rain again or pass over? And Mikami was still watching him. He wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting in silence. Mikami was probably waiting for him to give him an order like a dog with unlimited patience for his master.

"Right," Light coughed, supposing it a vague enough to cover all bases, but Mikami kept staring. "Is there anything you have to say?" he prompted, but Mikami didn't and they both wondered why he was there in the first place. Light reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim, silver cigarette case. It contained thin cigarettes, for people who weren't serious. Mikami moved as if he was going to leap up and light the cigarette for him. Thankfully, he didn't and Light did it himself. He coughed on the bitter taste as he breathed in and Mikami's eyes were still upon him. Rather brazenly for him really; there was eye contact and everything. Light felt like laughing but Ryuk was doing that for him. For a long time Mikami barely dared to look at his beloved Kira directly. Light offered him a cigarette and he took it, but pocketed it.

'Damn you', he thought. Back on the night in a warehouse when Light lost and gained everything at the same time, a new codependent reliance was born between himself and Mikami. He should have known then that it was a preview for what the future held. He had worked hard and achieved more than he thought possible in such a short space of time. He had expected some opposition but there had been little. Astraea had already put the everything in place leaving Light to do the honours. Most countries welcomed Kira's control like a beacon of hope and order because that was what he was. Ryuk laughed about it constantly. But Light was unsure now of how to achieve anything but disappointment. He was disappointed in himself for being so weak as to miss L as much as he did. In the night sometimes he whispered his name, now he knew it. He didn't want it, not on L's terms. That and other things kept him awake at night.

Light had, a few months previous, employed a doctor he discovered had been long supportive of Kira's ideology and renowned for his discretion in his treatment of the wealthy and those in the public eye throughout his career. At one point, after successive weeks of barely sleeping to the point of madness, losing weight, and seeing unwanted and painfully familiar dark circles under the thin skin beneath his eyes, Light requested some sleeping tablets. As he feared, he saw the doctor's face sink with disappointment, seeing Kira become a lesser being, just like everyone else. Light backtracked with further explanations. His human condition was his only frailty. The work was so great that he required the medication to effectively switch his mind off so his body could attempt to keep up and recharge like a battery. All the useless excuses. Thankfully the doctor didn't ask questions, either wanting to deflect this disturbing revelation that even gods are fallible, or just willing to do whatever Kira asked of him. He smiled politely and no more was said about it. An hour after he left, he returned with a months supply of sedatives. Then a prescription for stimulants came soon after and that was how it began. The doctor was willing and able to provide whatever Light asked for without a word. It was the least he could do. He could hardly refuse.

Mikami eventually left Light's office. After he did, with only the sound of a light silk suit rustling as he went, Light sat staring at the closed door. He fell back into his chair before sluggishly reaching in a desk drawer and pulling out a bag of white powder, crafting two thin white lines on his desk with a laminated, full of its own importance business card of yet another wannabe affiliate buying into Kira. The card was probably from someone who wished to compensate for his wickedness by ways of a weighty cheque, like rubbing Buddha's head for good luck. Then the lines were gone, his mind buzzed, and he thought his head would fall backwards until it broke like a poppy head on too thin a stalk. He lay against the headrest of his chair and smoked something which would wage war against the snow. Then he watched it all disappear into painless meaningless for a moment.

He saw the mirror again and his father in the bones of his face.

Daddy, let go of my hand. I don't need you anymore. I'm sorry. No murders, only sacrifices. Now drink from this cup, it's not poison if you don't believe it to be.

I have no choice except to live.

* * *

"Doesn't waste time, does he, old Kirachops?" Mello grumbled.

"He has been known to procrastinate," L said.

"L, with all your intimate knowledge of him, you should be able to solve this without Near googling hotels and possible hideouts for Kira Headquarters. Fuck, I can't believe he must have a HQ. Lunacy this is."

"I don't know him," L corrected, while clicking forcefully on his keyboard.

"But you do. Two birds sitting in a tree is what it sounds like. 'Kira wouldn't be seen dead there. Kira won't risk going out socially. Kira will have a select circle of trusted associates. Kira will have cut off all ties to his life prior to his Napoleon complex -'"

"Mello?" L asked.

"Yes?"

"Cease speaking."

"Just sayin'," Mello muttered as he leaned back in his chair. He wasn't sure whether he was more angry at L for his complete lack of progress, or pleased that he could spend his days making him feel like shit. "You seem to know everything about him. You promised me we'd find him but look, no cigar yet and he's king of the world. Standing on the bow of the Titanic, he is."

"I did promise you. Nothing's changed. You must recognise that this is not as easy as a normal investigation."

"Mmmm."

"Mello."

"What?"

"I promised you. Just give me more time."

"Halle," Near said suddenly, knocking the conversation flat. The blonde woman Mello had recognised as the one he had seen so often spying on him, came in. She was rather self-conscious now that she was the centre of attention.

"Sorry I'm late," she started. "There was a rally in -"

"Did you get it?" Near asked.

"Oh. Er, yes," she said, weakly. Obviously more than a little despondent at having been reduced to carrying out these kind of errands. She reached into the bag she was carrying and pulled out a bulky box which Near grabbed greedily.

"Not another bloody toy!" Mello exclaimed in disbelief.

"It's not a toy, it's a jigsaw," Near insisted, tearing at the cellophane cover and dumping the tiny chewed up pieces on the floor.

"Oh great. Yeah, L, look at how were using our resources. Nothing new has happened for over three weeks and now Near's using ex-CIA agents to ransack toyshops." L barely managed a shrug of his shoulders so Mello continued until he got a better response. Tears and self-flagellation maybe. "And when they're not in the Early Learning Centre, they're buying cakes for you."

"I... I don't mind," Halle said defensively.

"Of course you don't," L agreed. "I pay you not to mind. Now, tell me about this rally."

"It was an anti-Kira protest but it didn't get off the ground. The police came in and arrested them all."

"There seems to be a news blackout, unsurprisingly," L said, scanning the channels to make doubly sure.

"Gevanni is following the police vans holding the arrested to see where they're being taken."

"Kira wants to incite these protests to round up and dispose of anyone who opposes him," L explained to whoever was interested and hadn't yet worked that out for themselves.

"So why hasn't he killed you yet? Surely that would be the first thing he'd do?" Near mumbled while buried in puzzle pieces. Mello smiled when he heard Halle gasp at Near's blunt manner of speaking to the legendary L.

"Don't be daft," Mello said. "Kira doesn't know what L looks like and even then he'd need his name. L's un-killable. Which is a shame."

"I appreciate that you would like to see me keel over and you still might. I am not immune to murder," L muttered, before suddenly brightening up considerably. "Speaking of, I've made some arrangements, if I am killed."

Mello laughed, surprising everyone. "Do we get your money and enviable wardrobe? We'll look so dashing."

"No need to get so teary eyed about it."

"Seriously, we won't have to dress like you, will we?"

"No Mello. You can continue to look like a non-stick frying pan if you so wish."

"Who gets the title?" Near asked.

"Both of you shall be L," he replied.

"What?" Mello shrieked.

"Yes. You will work together as L until one or both of you die having chosen someone to take over, and on it goes. Obviously I won't be here to worry about that."

"We can't both be L. That's ridiculous and just... no."

"Take it or leave it, that's how it is. If you don't like it, Mello, then the title will go solely to Near by default or vice versa."

"For fuck sake. Captain Wow over there?" Mello said, completely bewildered. "Really?"

"Cheer up, it might never happen."

"I accept the proposal, L," Near said.

"Marvellous."

"I don't. I don't want to be you anyway," Mello stated.

"Equally marvellous. What a wonderful day this is. As I said, my duties go as far as living out my role, making arrangements, and dying. I don't care what happens after that. I'll be enjoying everlasting peace or perhaps something more interesting. Are you eating that cake?" L asked. Mello pushed the plate towards him in disgust.

"Gevanni says the arrested have been taken to the compound outside Kyoto," Halle said, receiving word on her ear piece. Mello grumbled.

"We should bomb it."

"No, we should infiltrate it," Near amended.

"Why waste time? Just bomb it."

"We're doing neither," L said, turning to Halle. "Tell Gevanni to return here." Mello spoke up entirely without emotion.

"You know, L, if you die, you'll be breaking your promise."

"I won't."

"You better not."

"Read through these phone records and note down any similarities," L demanded, throwing a stack of papers at Mello.

"We should form an underground resistance against Kira," Mello moaned as he took the tower of paperwork. A resistance had nice trenchcoats and berets and loiter under streetlights with a concealed gun in their pockets. Mello wanted a resistance.

"I was under the impression that that's what we are doing," L replied.

"No. I mean, go public. So people can come to us."

L adjusted his chair, so thrilled he was at the idea. "Yes, drawing attention to ourselves is exactly what we should do."

"I don't think that's a good idea, L," Near said, all big eyes from the floor. L was saying the wrong thing and the world was crumbling.

"I know it's not a good idea, Near. It's an idiotic, suicidal idea. That's why I employed sarcasm."

"Oh. Good."

But Mello was furious. "All this subterfuge looks a lot like doing fuck all."

"If you paid attention and tried to control your obsession with bombastic attacks then you'd see that's not the case," L retaliated.

"It's just so slow. Oh, hang on. Is this something?" Mello said, holding up three pieces of paper which L quickly ripped from his hand. "That's something right?"

"It's something," L conceded, looking over the three pages and then picking up others.

"What is it?" Near asked.

"A known Kira supporter's phone records shoes multiple calls to and from an unlisted number. A number that has been wiped from the phone company records. That's interesting. Now why would someone do that?"

"Because it's Kira," Mello said, confidently.

"Or more likely, someone close to Kira."

"How do we find out the origins of the number if it officially doesn't exist?"

"In theory, we can't."

"But in reality?"

"I'll look into it later on," L said in an uncommitted way and picked up his piece of cake.

"Oh!" Mello sighed in exasperation.

"I can look into it if you're busy, L," Near offered.

"Ha," Mello laughed.

"What is funny?" Near asked.

"Nothing. I just remembered why I despise you," was the reply. L turned to Near.

"I don't know why you encourage him, Near. You must realise that he hands out verbal slaps across the face at any opportunity."

"It interests me to see what he says."

"Really? Takes all sorts, I suppose."

"Maybe he's into S&M," Mello said. "Maybe he has a dungeon with handcuffs and feather dusters."

Near didn't seem terribly interested and started building a tower out of jigsaw pieces. "Why would I want those things, Mello?" he asked.

"Give me strength. You're as sheltered as Shirley Temple on the good ship fuckin' lollipop and you hair is twice as stupid. Unbelievable."

"Let's not bring Shirley Temple into this," L demanded. "We have enough to deal with."

"You'd think a boarding school for brainiac maniacs would be a breeding ground for depravity. In fact, I know it was. And yet Near escaped unscathed and in the same pyjamas he came in with."

"Leave him alone, Mello."

"Don't you feel like he's coldly observing you like a shark? Look at that. Absolutely nothing behind the eyes. I wonder where he gets it from." Mello looked into L's own unfathomable eyes. "Oh, yeah."

"This is all hilarious but can you just get back to work," L asked, despairingly.

"What work? I found something possibly very important and you've put it in a drawer while we sit here eating doughnuts and staring at computers all day. This isn't work unless we're actually employed by a nuclear power plant."

"I can arrange that if you'd rather work elsewhere."

"But you can't. Not anymore," Mello sneered. "I think L's prizewinning dick has been tied in a knot by Kira and the way he's taken over the world and all. Hence our hiding out in a bloody basement." L's lips pursed, he was about to object but Near spoke first.

"I've found a possible location for Kira within our target area," he said, managing somehow to solve a puzzle and attempt to solve a puzzle of a less tangible kind at the same time.

"And how did you find that?" Mello asked, unconvinced.

"I looked on google maps."

"Congratulations, you can use the internet. We're definitely the world's greatest detective team for a reason, aren't we?"

"_You_ didn't find it. You're not doing anything," Near said, moodily.

"Oh shut up, have a wank, and get back to google maps."

"If anyone is planning a wank please do it elsewhere. I have pastries here," L stated while looking at what Near had found. "And Kira wouldn't even stand outside that hotel, Near. It's a budget motel and Kira doesn't do value for money, I thought we'd been through this. But it was worth mentioning for appearances sake so we can at least pretend that there is some actual investigating going on here."

"I'm investigating. I found something more than a motel on the internet. I found something interesting. You put it in that drawer," Mello complained. Everyone ignored him.

"What do you think his next move is?" Near asked.

"To kill me," L said. "But he hasn't done that yet so maybe he's saving that joy for a rainy day and in the meantime he's going for a holiday in the South Pacific. Who knows. What can a man do when he has everything?"

"He's still killing a huge amount of people each day."

"Yes and for lesser and lesser crimes. No, he's not doing that alone. He's more concerned with Japan, probably because he is in Japan. He likes to deal with his own surroundings first and move on when he's bored."

"He has helpers then?"

"He definitely has someone or a team of people. I suppose when a company merges they might as well take advantage of the added workforce," L mused.

"What is his job now then? Now that he's sharing out the work?" Near said. He twirled his hair when he was nervous, or thinking, or both.

"No idea," Mello laughed. "Bastard might just sit on a throne for all I know."

"Ha, he probably does," L agreed.

"I'm tired of this. Anyone else feeling that we're not getting anywhere?" Mello said, "Though it's pretty hard to deny."

"Don't get agitated, Mello This is your problem. You need to plan before you act."

"Yes, because sitting around planning has really worked so far, hasn't it?

"You mean Matt? I'm sorry."

"I didn't actually but since you bring it up, yeah. Him and all the other people who have died while you 'plan' or continue indulging in this circle jerk for two with Kira."

L turned slowly towards him like a demon. "Mello, I think you need to sit on the naughty step," he said, slowly.

"It's all just experiments with you. These are people's lives - "

"Mello's right," Near said quietly. Mello and L stared at him and Near stared at his puzzle piece. "You made grievous mistakes far below you capabilities, L. But I doubt that you need to be reminded of that now. So we should just continue, but perhaps be more proactive?"

L continued to look at Near with disappointment. He seemed to be searching for something to say in reply, but there was nothing he could say in defence. There was no point. So he left abruptly. The door closed behind him and Mello and Near sat in silence for a few moments before Mello laughed.

"Heh."

"What now?" Near asked.

"You stuck up for me."

"I didn't."

"You did. Time reversed, Superman saved Lois, King Arthur has risen, Albert the pig just flew across the sky, and you stuck up for me."

"It was unintentional. I was merely viewing things -"

"Logically. Yeah I know," Mello sighed and lit a cigarette. It was Matt's brand.

"I was merely viewing the sides objectively and reasoned that while you both have valid points, perhaps making more progress against Kira would be a good idea. Especially since I still have agents at my disposal."

"Disposal? What, you mean they don't matter? Let's send 'em out and if they come back broken then send another one out? This isn't your fucking plastic army, Near. You know what I've always hated about you, apart from the obvious?"

"I'm sorry that you hate me, Mello. What do you hate about me?"

"Your complete inability to argue. You do this shut down thing and it's really annoying. You're worse than L."

"Do you mind not smoking?"

"I would mind. I'd rather smoke."

"You don't even like smoking."

"Things change when you go through life, Near. Though I suppose that's hard or you to comprehend since you're wrapped up in a little bubble."

"Smoking hardly helps. All it'll do is give us all cancer through passive smoking."

"That would just be an added bonus. When you cough up a lung then I'll give you a ride to the hospital. What are you doing now?"

"I'm reading reports."

"This is a joke. This is all one big joke."

"When Matt died, what did you do, Mello?"

"What?"

"When Matt died, what did you -"

"I heard."

"Well?"

"What has that got to do with anything? I left," Mello answered. He stared intently at a small, porthole-like window far above his head. Near saw the vulnerability and confronted it head on, taking L's seat next to Mello.

"Just like that? So it wasn't a surprise to you?"

"Of course it was a fucking surprise," Mello spat. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure why Matt was killed and not you too. It's not like Kira. If I was Kira and had access to Matt's identity, then by association I would make it my business to find out yours and eradicate you too."

"Pisshead."

"Of course, he just might not see you as a threat."

"Fuck you, Near. He just doesn't know about me."

"Oh. Why is that?"

"L hasn't told you any of this?"

"No."

"Figures. Well, ask him. He knows everything after all. He's god all bloody mighty."

"You do seem unusually angry with L. I've already established through your interactions and L's submissiveness that you blame him for Matt's death with some just cause. But shouldn't you be grateful that you were not killed by Kira, perhaps saved only because of L's endeavours?"

"L didn't do a thing. Not a thing. L was too busy with his boy toy to worry about all his 'heirs' dropping dead around him."

"But Matt was only third in line and not really a serious candidate."

"Ok, Near. You can shut up now before I embed one of your toy helicopter things in your face."

"I get the feeling that perhaps there's another reason that you're angry at L. You should deal with that so we can continue the investigation in a more professional manner."

"You're talking about professional? You? The bloke in pyjamas with a train set?"

"I'm not asking you to comment on my work ethics."

"But feel free to comment on mine."

"I didn't know that you had any."

"You don't know anything about how I work."

"As far as I can tell you sit there and spit insults at L. I can't see how that helps," Near said, simply. He swept the finished jigsaw under the table with one hand.

"Look, if he feels inadequate then that's his problem," Mello answered. "When people mess up they shouldn't be allowed to forget about it."

"So this is just about Matt."

"No, it's about the fact that L had well over a year to chase Kira and got nowhere. In fact, look how well it turned out. Kira now rules the world and we're in hiding in some godforsaken hole."

"Who was L's 'boy toy'?"

"Near, when I said 'boy toy', I didn't mean he had a Ken or Barbie doll."

"No, you're suggesting that he had a partner living with him in the investigation headquarters."

"Yeah. And not just for card games, I'm guessing."

"Did you meet him?"

"Yep."

"And you're sure that he wasn't a just a detective working for L?"

"Middle of the night. No shirt. Jealous. L in a dressing gown. Lover's tiff. I can't burn it out of my mind and believe me I've tried."

"And you've no idea who he was?"

"He was just some Japanese bloke, which is hardly surprising since we are in Japan. A bit older than us but not much. Barely legal probably. If he was just a detective then he was an awfully young and pretty one. Maybe L just takes his investigative work very seriously?"

"So you're certain that it wasn't a professional relationship?"

"He spoke to L like he was shit on his shoe. Nah, they were like an old married couple."

"So the only question left is, where is he now?"

"Dead."

"How do you know that?"

"L said. You were there."

"He said no such thing. You're delusional."

"It was insinuated that Kira killed him. That's why L is mopey and to be honest it's the only reason I haven't gutted him yet."

"Because Kira killed Matt and L's friend, you're the same," Near clarified. Mello smiled at the word 'friend' and just at the whole thing really before lighting up another cigarette. "L's right about your smoking," Near said.

"Mmm."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Well, Near. I've thought about it long and hard and I've decided to just fuck it all and have another cigarette."

"Do you need some motivational autopsy photographs of cancerous lungs?"

"Yeah, let's pin them up on the wall. Let's make a collage."

"Are you serious?"

"No but if you want to do that then don't let me stop you. This place looks like kindergarten as it is."

"I'm... I'm sorry about Matt," Near said, hesitantly. Mello looked into his eyes with utter contempt.

"Don't."

"Don't?"

"Go there. Don't go there."

"Did L tell you where Matt's buried?" Near persevered. That people sometimes did not want to discuss things which were hurtful to them was something which went over his head entirely. He simply could not comprehend it, and since Mello didn't answer his question, it only made him want to ask others. "Do you want to visit his grave?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I thought because of your religion you might-"

"What religion? Wearing a cross doesn't make you religious. Any hipster cunt can wear a cross. Just... oh, just be quiet."

"Are you sleeping well, Mello?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Doctor."

"I don't understand you."

"I know."

"I wish I did."

* * *

It was strange and yet fitting that Mello was the one to seek out L. He didn't apologise, because in his mind there was nothing to apologise for, and maybe he was right. His presence eased the tension. He had to let L know that although they disagreed on many aspects of how to deal with Kira, ultimately they were after the same goal, however they reached it.

"Near asked me if I was sleeping. Now he's playing backgammon with himself," Mello said, casually. He dropped into a chair next to L as if from a great height.

"It's a fair question," L replied. "It's hard to tell sometimes whether you're awake or sleeping."

"Shut it," Mello breathed out with a weak laugh while he plucked a shred of tobacco from his lips. Both he and L were quiet for a few moments while they both took in Mello's new attitude towards L. L wasn't used to being spoken to like that. No one had ever spoken to him like that, apart from Light, and even he was more polite about it. "L," Mello asked awkwardly, are we really going to catch Kira?"

L raised his head and replied as if he'd just woken from a dream. "Yes," he said. "Sometimes I think that only a scrap of paper separates me from him."

"You speak about him weirdly. Y'know that?"

"Do I?"

"Hmm, like you're obsessed or something. Is this how you usually get with mass murderers? Seriously though, you think we're that close to him now? Don't lie to me."

"We were never that far behind," L coughed before he changed the subject. "So, are you sleeping?"

"I suppose so. I lie in bed, close my eyes, and when I open them the clock tells a different time."

"Good."

"Are you? Sleeping?"

"That's a rather stupid question, Mello. You surprise me."

"Why don't you sleep, L?" And L tilted his head to one side, looking at the blond boy like he'd spoken in a language he didn't understand. He turned back towards the empty wall.

"Do you know that saying that if you die in your dreams you die in your sleep?"

What he didn't say was, "When I dream I see him. When I dream of him he's trying to kill me. And I would let him do it."

* * *

**A/N** Don't let Light near a mirror nowadays; he goes all first person.

Long AN because it's been a while and I always feel the need to excuse my failures. It was a hard chapter to write because of the loss of the L/Light dynamic. *sobs quietly*

I think some people were confused about what happened in the last chapter. I'm sorry! I hope it's a bit more clear now. L giving Light his name at the end of the last chapter might seem suicidal but it's more mind games really. Light gave L a piece of the Death Note in the watch way back, and L gave Light his name so now both can kill the other if they wanted. They don't do it because, aside from the emotional issues, it would be seen as the cowardly option. I know, it's weird.

And now for the pointless blah about Light and his drug abuse because this might be another WTF issue. It wasn't my original intention but bugger it. If he was completely alone and in control then he would have no need to distract himself. I think he'd be a lot stronger because he'd have to be self-reliant. Because he's lost control by being part of a larger organisation, and since delegating to Mikami and others makes sense, he's allowed it to happen and he's done it. Drug use is a weakness in one respect, but it's a decision the user has chosen to make themselves zone out regularly. Well, Light does in this. Practically everyone smokes in this fic because just about everyone I know does. After crits at uni, everyone hovers around the sole picnic table outside and it's like a massive smouldering barbecue of anxiety. The different reasons why people smoke or do anything fascinates me. I shouldn't really bring it into this fic but meh.


	21. Rebel Prince

**A/N **Italics are flashbacks or lyrics. You know by now.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

** Rebel Prince**

_Where is my master, the rebel prince?_  
_Who will shut all of these windows?_  
_It's these windows all around me_  
_It's these windows who are telling me_  
_To rid my dirty mind of all of it's preciousness_

_Where is my master, the rebel prince?_  
_Bet breaking everything trying to get to me in this two-bit hotel_  
_Just to me before this windowsill does rid my dirty mind of all of its preciousness_

_Oh I can see him now, though it's so far away_  
_Amongst the roving crowd, going the other way_  
_Confounded anger burning with love for me_

_Marigold, marigold, marigold  
__I'm leaving the Roosevelt Hotel  
__I'm leaving the room we knew so well_

~ Rufus Wainwright

* * *

_"I like our lazy day," L yawned. Light heard a bone or two crack loudly in L's shoulder as he stretched beside him. He could never allow himself to become so slovenly to fall into the perpetual slouch so that L's body loudly objected whenever it was straightened out, but L's delicateness and complete indifference to his own shell was oddly endearing._

_"I like our lazy day," he agreed._

_"I get the feeling that we should be doing something useful though."_

_"Why start now?" Light said. They both laughed gently at first but the ridiculousness of the way the bed began to shake with their laughter made them laugh all the more before easing off to nothing, as it had started. L breathed out a worry._

_"Help me justify this," he said._

_"We've been burning up excess kinetic energy to neutralise... something," Light answered while inspecting his fingernails, holding them up above his face._

_"That'll do."_

_"Do you still feel sick?" Light asked, although he didn't sound very concerned._

_"No."_

_"We'll probably get flu now."_

_"I love the rain," L said, dreamily, turning on his side to watch Light polish the fingernail on his little finger with the pad of his thumb._

_"I noticed," Light smiled at him, amused both at the childlike statement and that L was watching him so intently. "So you really don't feel ill anymore?"_

_"No, not really."_

_"It was probably gummy tummy or whatever Sayu calls it."_

_"I've never had gummy tummy in my life. What is it?" L asked. Light laughed._

_"It's when you eat too many sweets and your stomach becomes a big gelatinous, E-number mess."_

_"No. I've never had that."_

_"Do you want to stay there while I check on the whole Astraea-oh-no-the-world-is-going-to-end thing?"_

_"There aren't any sirens. I think we can assume that my cunning plan was appropriately cunning."_

_"Well done."_

_"Thank you." __L rolled over and kissed him while Light's hand hovered above his head._

_"You sounded like a plunger then," Light commented._

_"I can't feel my lips anymore," L said sadly, running his fingers over his mouth._

_"I'll book you in for a service in the morning."_

_"Oh no. They'll be back in the morning won't they? Why didn't I send them away for longer? What a terrible miscalculation."_

_"It makes no difference. Go to sleep now. Again."_

_"How do you do that? Just go to sleep. You... ha, you go out like a light."_

_"I've heard them all before, L, and they weren't funny the first time."_

* * *

"You're really going to do this then?"

Ryuk didn't have the kind of face that could easily express emotion of any kind but his voice revealed his disbelief of what Light had told him. Light smiled at his own ingenuity and rolled up his sleeves.

"I'm just waiting on the laboratories to find an appropriate drug. Obviously I have to do some research. We don't want to poison everyone now do we?" He said it like it would be a wonderful bonus if everyone did happen to die, just a mishap which could be brushed off with a ho hum and a cup of tea. Ryuk hovered a little closer to Light.

"It's like... that Korean film. The one with the monster fish thing," he said.

"Yes, Ryuk. It'll be just like the Korean film with the monster fish thing. Just like that."

"I can't wait to see what happens. When people realise what's going on but don't know why." Ryuk hacked out his normal laugh while Light smiled, leaning back in his chair with closed eyes.

"I'm glad that you're entertained."

"Because if I wasn't, you'd be dead," Ryuk said, darkly. Despite the intended shock of the words and the venom behind them, Light didn't seem to react, only raising his arms and sliding his hands behind his head like he was sunbathing.

"Keeping you entertained doesn't worry me, Ryuk. You're content with a crate of apples. You're hardly a tough crowd during a comedy stand-up routine."

"Huh huh, you're right there."

"Apples and death and it doesn't bother you who dies. What if I killed kittens?"

Ryuk scratched his head. "I'm not sure about that."

"I can't remember if there's a rule about the Death Note working on family pets. My aunt's cat scratched me once. I think it's time for pay back." Ryuk stared. Light opened his eyes and smiled to see the blank looking horror of a face. "I'm kidding, Ryuk," Light told him.

"Oh. Funny, Light."

"Yeaaahhhh. What time is it?" Light asked, who, despite wearing a wristwatch, was too lethargic to bother himself with looking.

"Shinigami don't need clocks," Ryuk replied.

"I guess not. And yet you're covered in pocket watch chains. You're not very useful really are you?"

"You humans are too concerned with such a flawed concept as time."

"It works for us. Besides, you use time. The Death Note is full of time related rules."

"Only because it's in relation to human deaths. Things could be much more simple."

"Could it now?" Light said, lazily dragging himself forwards, checking the time with indifference before looking at his diary. "Ah, it seems that I'm free for another hour." He thought on that for a moment. "Oh well." With a resigned cheerfulness as he opened his desk drawer and took out a fat looking cigarello.

"Not again."

"Shut up, Ryuk. This is Cuban."

"The smoke smells bad." Ryuk said, floating over to a bowl of apples on the desk, leaning down as if about to stick his head in it, and took a deep breath. A look of ecstasy washed over his usually blank, clownlike features. Light observed cooly, breathing out a cloud of smoke into the Shinigami's face, smiling as Ryuk's stub of a nose twitched slightly and his yellow eyes opened as he pulled back to a safe distance in disgust.

"That's not funny, Light."

"It really is."

"Most people wouldn't do anything like that to a God of Death."

"I'm not most people though, am I?" Light said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair again.

"Mikami wouldn't do that and he's not like most people."

"Mikami is a frightened idiot doomed to a life of servitude," Light said quickly with some annoyance. "So, yes, he is like most people."

"Huhhh."

"It _is_ funny when you think about it. It used to make me angry but now it's just a useful coincidence that everyone is just so fucking pliable."

"L wasn't. I wish I'd seen you two stuck in that place together like two pandas in a zoo hitting each other."

"Or hitting on each other."

"Wha?"

"Nothing."

"I wish he was still on the scene. Things were interesting then. Like when he put that guy on TV. I can't remember his name..."

"Lind L Taylor."

"Yeah, him. And you killed him thinking it was L but it was a set up. That was clever. I've never seen you so worked up. I think you actually broke a sweat."

"It was irritating but ultimately it led to nothing. I'm still in the place I was destined to be."

"Huh huh! So now you believe in fate? Seriously, I thought you were going to have a breakdown. I've seen that happen before to other people."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"And then you ended up giving up the Death Note because he fenced you in."

"He didn't fence me in. Anyway, shut up, Ryuk. I know the story. I was there."

"And then he just disappears. Did you kill him?" Ryuk said, even though he knew the answer.

"No. He wasn't worth the effort," Light replied before taking another drag on the smoking stick.

"Ah, because you'd have to halve your life for the Eyes."

"Yeah, still not interested. I know you're dying to sell me some Eyes but your cost is too high. Maybe for wings, like I said." Light laughed as he again pondered the idea of flying. He would soar up to where there was no oxygen. People would stare as he crashed down to earth, only to save himself at the last minute. He wouldn't be Icarus. He wouldn't burn up.

"But... I don't get it. Couldn't you have had Misa find out his name?" Ryuk asked, disturbing Light's idle thoughts.

"Ryuk, drop it. Anyway, you saw him. You know his name. If you wanted, _you_ could give me his name."

"But I'm a non-intervening god. He's more interesting alive than dead. If you killed him it'd be boring and your time would be up. It's better if he's alive because then he's still a threat. If he was gone there would be nothing in your way."

Light started to hunch over his desk and smoke more intently. "He's not in my way. Haven't you noticed? He's the one in a cave somewhere like a terrorist. Actually, that reminds me. I have to make sure that opposition group with the ridiculous name in Argentina have been dealt with."

"You're more like the terrorist."

"Do I look like a terrorist? This is Gucci," Light said, horrified and pointing at his suit. Terrorists didn't wear suits. Definitely not of ones of quality anyway.

"Or maybe you didn't want him dead. Because you found him interesting too."

"Ryuk."

"I mean, you killed your dad for less."

"I didn't kill my father now shut the fuck up or it will be my life's mission to take your Death Note, find some way to put you in an incinerator and keep you there for the rest of your miserable existence."

"Okay, okay. Woah, you're irritable. I thought that stuff you smoke is supposed to calm you down."

"I'd need to smoke a lot more of it to put up with you. I'd have to be unconscious." He stood suddenly. " I'm going to have a shower."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

"Do you miss him?

"No."

"How do you know who I'm talking about."

"It doesn't matter. I don't miss anyone."

"Liar."

"Oh for God's sake. If I never hear that word again then I'll be happy. I've never lied really. There's no such thing as a lie for me. It's so beneath me. I might have said things that weren't the truth but if you believe in what you're saying then it's not a lie."

"Er... That doesn't make any sense. I just wish I'd been there. It must have been very interesting to watch."

"For a pervert like you, it would be. You're not going to leave me alone are you?" Light asked before giving up and sitting himself back down again.

"Nahhhh. Play with me, Light!"

"But you never stop talking."

"Go on. It's like that show. The quiz one."

"And I thought giving you cable was a good idea. Now all you say is that everything's "like _Dallas_" or "like _Coffee Prince_."

"So, are you gonna play?"

"Like I have a choice."

"I was just thinking how clever it was to seduce him like that. Don't think I don't know! Haaaa! I know how you humans work. It's like _Dynasty_."

"Yes, that's me. I'm Joan Collins."

"Yes! Just like Joan Collins! Huhhhhh. But then that's what you do, I guess. Seduce people. Did it make things easier or harder, no pun intended."

"Oh please. Hell really is here on earth and it's other people and Gods of Death. It wasn't like that. It didn't start out that way."

"Eh?" Ryuk said, stupidly. He'd learned a lot from Light, not least that playing simple seemed to reap results.

"I didn't have my memories when it started," Light said thoughtfully, tapping some ash into a silver tray. "I don't know why it started and I wish that it hadn't. If I was whole at that time; if I had all my memories, it wouldn't have happened. I would have done something else, I suppose."

"So you made him fall in love with you. That must have been fun to watch. To see the guy in love with you and Kira at the same time."

"I am Kira. I have always been Kira. We're not two separate entities and he knew it," Light replied, ditching the cigar and putting a cigarette into his mouth instead which bobbed between his lips as he spoke. "He never loved me because he never knew me" he continued, snapping his lighter shut. "We were passing time by playing games. It was a distraction."

"Humans like their distractions. I've never understood it. But well done for playing so dirty. We're out of apples by the way."

"Oh."

"Well? Get some for me. You mentioned a crate of apples before."

"I'm not taking orders from you or anyone. Get your own apples."

"You know that I can't. You've changed. I preferred you before. You were more humble and appreciative then... well, maybe not humble."

"Ryuk, you're getting what you wanted. Aren't I keeping my promise? Isn't this interesting enough for you?"

"It's getting slow lately. Just killing with no opposition is pretty boring to watch. It's just like watching a new Shinigami with the Death Note before they get tired of it."

"What do you want then, a war? I'm not starting a war just for your benefit."

"Nah, I've seen them. They're boring and go on for ages."

"What _do_ you want then?"

"I want L back. Why isn't he fighting you now?"

"Maybe he's bored too, Ryuk. Maybe we're all just bored."

"Call him."

"No. And anyway, I don't know where he is. His tower block of pompousness has been abandoned," Light said, making himself laugh. "It was his version of a Ferrari; some kind of penis extension. Who needs a place that big and only have a handful of people in it? Maybe I should have it. I could put a swimming pool on the fucking roof. Maybe a bell tower."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. Stop bothering me or I'm going to have to crack open the um... crack and wipe out the rest of my day to avoid you."

"You do too much of that stuff. It's boring."

"And how we both hate boring. I don't know, Ryuk. If you want him so much then why don't you find him?"

"I can't do that without going to the Shinigami realm and you know it."

"Then go. Send him my best. Oh, and tell him I want my CD player back."

"You have one of those iPod things now."

"That's not the point."

"I'm not going there."

"Let me guess, it's boring?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I could ask Mikami to look into it again," Light thought. Ryuk smiled.

"What?"

"To try and find where he's hiding."

"L?"

"I mean, I want my CD player back. It's the principle of the thing. He has something of mine and I want it back. I want it back," he repeated thoughtfully.

"I don't think he's hiding from you because he doesn't want to give your old CD player back."

Light looked at Ryuk angrily before standing up again, putting considerable weight on his cigarette as he crushed it out. "Whatever. I'm going to have my shower now if that's ok with you."

"Put the TV on before you go," Ryuk said as Light breezed past, removing his tie. Despite his huff, Light did what Ryuk asked.

"I don't know how you can watch this rubbish. Call me if the phone rings. It'll be Mikami. The calls will come straight through because that fucking secretary of mine has disappeared."

"That's two this week isn't it?"

"They were incompetent."

"You must be losing your charm."

"I have no reason to be charming," Light called from the shower. The sound of a gush of steaming water hitting a marble floor filled the room.

"Nah. I guess not," Ryuk muttered, his interest being more taken with the woman on the TV who was proudly holding up a hideous antique jug. Light peered around the corner, unbuttoning his shirt.

"It's your fault anyway. They hear me talking to you and think that I'm mad. She'll be dealt with though. People can't see the face of Kira and then go running off home to mummy and journalists. Oh, and Ryuk?"

"Yep?"

"Stay here, don't go to the Shinigami realm. Leave L alone. Like you said, it _would_ be boring if he was dead."

"I told you that I wouldn't. I'd have to kill you then."

Light looked at Ryuk with a face empty of emotion. He was either calling his bluff by appearing to not be interested in vague threats, or he genuinely wasn't bothered. "I wouldn't really care," he said at last. "No, I don't want to die. I have a responsibility, don't I?"

"If you say so," Ryuk replied watching the woman on the TV who was now jumping up and down as her antique was sold in a live auction and had passed the reserve. "You know, none of this really matters, Light."

"Stop," Light demanded. Ryuk kept staring at the TV as if deaf to him.

"You'll live and kill and die and everything will revert back to what it was. It's how things are."

"No."

"You're trying to create something unachievable," Ryuk said, turning towards Light. "It's why I like you. But in a hundred years you'll be dead and someone else will have that Death Note, and maybe I'll be having this same conversation with them."

"No one has done what I've done," Light shouted defiantly, surprised at his own rising temper. But the idea was absolutely ridiculous and he didn't care about a hundred years in the future. It was just a vague concept based on some theory of continuity and if he wasn't going to be there, it didn't exist. Ryuk conceded, turning back to the TV.

"That's true."

"And you're wrong, Ryuk. What I create will last. Whether people understand or not, it will last," Light said finally. He walked into the bathroom and shut the door, hated himself for the knowledge that always plagued him in his heart; that all he wanted was for one person to understand. Not Ryuk, but the right person, knowing that they never would.

* * *

_"Well you're easy to find." Light said, grumpily, as he dodged puddles. He approached L who was standing in his usual spot in the middle of the roof like a crap beacon._

_"That's because I'm not trying. I'm as easy to find as you are," L replied, turning his head towards Light, not looking particularly happy to see him. Light considered just going back inside. Instead he sighed and decided to throw something back at L's attitude. Something which would amuse himself because L would know that it was layered with truth._

_"You didn't find me, I gave myself up to you. There's a difference," he said. L smiled bitterly and turned back to whatever cloud he had been looking at._

_"Ah, how sweet and with just a hint of arrogance. It's not exactly how things were though. I found you, and it was disappointingly simple." Light's hackles rose. He absolutely despised him when he was like this. Why couldn't they just be pleasant and courteous?_

_"Strange, because I distinctly remember phoning you and saying something like, 'I might be Kira because you think I might Kira and you're driving me insane.' Of course, that was when I had some respect for your detecting skills and didn't know you very well. Then I came in and agreed to you putting me in a cell."_

_"You missed out a whole section beforehand."_

_"You mean when you crept up behind me at To-Oh after the speech and said 'boo'?"_

_"No, I told you that I was L. Your memory is failing."_

_"I think my whole brain is failing, all things considered."_

_"There's a thorn in everything you say. People tend to take you on face value, I've noticed. It is a very nice face, or faces, I should say, though one is uglier than the other. It's easier for everyone to just see the good in you."_

_"Not everything I say has a double meaning. That would be exhausting."_

_"Maybe I alone hear what you say and know the thoughts in your head that counteract all your beautiful words," L said dreamily. Light walked past him and leaned over the wall to inspect the drop._

_"Or maybe there's too much sugar in your bloodstream," he muttered. Somehow L had heard him, probably because he had followed him and was now standing right behind him. Light spun around in shock, standing against the wall like a cornered animal. L smiled and tilted his head to one side._

_"Speaking of, is it time for tea?" he said, cheerfully._

_"I thought any time was time for tea in your world," Light said, relaxing. He never truly trusted him not to suddenly wake up one day and do what Light would do if he were him. Light, himself, should do it. It would be so easy to just push him off the roof right now. There were no cameras. It would look like the suicide of a failure. _

_"True," L conceded._

_"So, are you going to come back inside any time soon?"_

_"Have you come to hurry me along?"_

_"No. Stay here if you want. Now that I've found you I'll tell Stephen Hawking or whoever it is on the phone that you're busy on the roof staring at the sky, writing poetry, and being maudlin and thoughtful."_

_"Who phoned?" L asked, suddenly serious._

_"That letter N again. Fucking Sesame Street."_

_"Oh. They can wait."_

_"That's what I told them. Have you noticed the way they use a letter 'N' in the lowercase, but in a typeface similar to yours? It's like they're a pretender or something. A lower rank in your little army and desperate to be on a level with you, but too frightened of offence to use a capital 'N'. They're so subservient. It's disgusting."_

_"Light, once again you've hit the nail on the head and bashed its brains out. But I do think that you've been thinking too much on the subject."_

_"Maybe. I've been bored. I was thinking of getting a Nintendo." he replied. L smiled again and Light saw the chance and continued, just to amuse him. "Yes, and some violent games so I can live the dream and kill thousands of people from the comfort of my armchair, because that's what I love to do after all. Pity that they're not real people, but it could be classed as practice."_

_"What?" L asked, the smile disappearing._

_"That's what you were thinking," Light explained, confused that L wasn't playing along._

_"Don't joke. It's serious," L said, turning away. Light hated that and stood in front of him._

_"It's gone past being serious. If you were in my position then you would have to find something to joke about too. And what's more hilarious than my situation?"_

_"It's not funny."_

_"No, and that's why it's funny."_

_"Depending on your mood at any given time you fluctuate between insisting that you're here on some martyr mission to prove your innocence, which, by the way, is a lost cause, here because you're desperately in love with me for no reason, or here because I'm holding you hostage."_

_"The truth is probably somewhere in-between."_

_"Hmm… but back to N. You do have a habit of underestimating people. Myself being a case in point."_

_"That's a bit rich coming from you."_

_"I never underestimated you," L argued. "Well, maybe a little bit."_

_"A bit. So, are you planning on staying here or should I put the kettle on?"_

_"Why are you bothering me?"_

_"I didn't know that I was," Light said, offended. He took a business-like tact. "Ok then. As I said, N phoned and I thought that I'd find you to let you know. I also thought that it would be a challenge to pass a few hours if I didn't cheat and use the cameras, but look, the first place I tried and here you are. You're really bad at hiding."_

_"I've been hiding my whole life, Light. If I choose not to be found, no one would find me."_

* * *

"Please take my secretary, Kira-sama," Mikami all but begged.

"I don't want your secretary. I don't want a secretary full stop. We will continue as we are now; you screen messages and forward them to me."

"Yes, Kira-sama."

"And I want the numbers for the labs and the advisors."

"Of course, Kir-"

"Direct lines," Light interrupted. He was in a foul mood and didn't care who knew it. "I don't want to waste my time talking to Biology students on work experience and being put on hold."

"Yes, Kira-sama," Mikami said, looking almost tired. Light didn't care though he thought that it must be terrible to have such a small vocabulary.

"And... I think it's time to resume the search for L," Light declared, briefly seeing Mikami's shocked, worried expression before he leaned forwards to toss some ice and water into a glass. A woman next to him who was wearing a badly fitting suit tried to assist him but he stopped her with a furious glance. "Not that he is a threat in any way," Light continued, "that much is clear. But for security reasons it would be beneficial to establish where he is, or at least gain contact. To keep him occupied while the work is in progress."

The abashed woman next to him spoke up fearfully. "But we found no trail for him during the last search. It was decided that in all likelihood he had died as he could not have left the country."

Light turned to her with an oddly kind expression at complete odds with his word. "Because you couldn't find him? You, who have no idea who you're looking for. Because you found nothing, which is hardly surprising in itself, you conclude that he must be dead. No evidence to back that up but that doesn't matter because it's the easiest assumption. And then you can have a coffee and a biscuit. Who are you anyway? Actually, I don't care who you are, but why are you here?"

"I... er. You hired me, Kira-sama."

"I did? What on earth possessed me?"

Mikami coughed gently into his hand as a gentle overture to his impending interruption. "Kira-sama, I interviewed Miss Ling and shortlisted her and other applicants for your final approval. Her background is exemplary and -"

"Yes, yes. I don't want her life story, I just want to know why she is here." Light noticed another unfamiliar face next to Miss Ling. "In fact, why are you here? Who are you? Where did you all come from?"

"I'm Kato Mishima, Kira-Sama," the man answered, bowing in his seat and nearly hitting his head on the table.

"Both Mr Mishima and Miss Ling are specialists in telecommunications and locating," Mikami explained. "Both trained with the CIA." Light laughed.

"Well that's it, I wouldn't have hired them. You can't hire ex-agents, Mikami. They're extremely untrustworthy and useless. And what did we hire them for, for note-taking? What's this?" he said, angrily grabbing a fistful of paper from Miss Ling's clipboard. "There is no note-taking before, during, or after meetings. The written word is a dangerous thing and has absolutely no place in or outside of this room. If you can't remember what was said, you get the hell out of this building and don't come back. Get a job in retail or something." Miss Ling eyes teared up and without much effort to restrain herself, began to sob gently into her cupped hands. Light rolled his eyes. "Oh, get out. All of you out and go to the waiting room. But not you, Mikami," he ordered. A muscle below Mikami's cheekbone tightened as the other people solemnly left. Light swirled the ice cubes in his glass around for a few moments so the clinking of ice on glass was the only sound in the room. "You hired them, Mikami?" Light said, at last, eerily calm and congenial.

"After you approved of increasing the workforce in certain areas."

"And now they sit-in on important meetings in which security is paramount? These people you hire in off the street sit here and write down everything I say, and you think that that's a good idea? Have I misjudged you, Mikami?"

"No, Kira-sama. I apologise. They were taken on after scrutinised background checks. They all put themselves forward as supporters of Kira."

"You hired them," Light stated again as a fact.

"Yes, sir."

"And you know all of their names?"

"Yes."

"Write them down," Light demanded. Mikami stared at the piece of the Death Note that Light took from his pocket, unfolded and pushed towards him. After a few seconds, Mikami took up a pen and started writing. "There is no need for employees. What work there is to be done we can do ourselves," Light explained.

"But - " Mikami started.

"No. Do you doubt my ability as Kira? I was Kira from the moment I was born. I was Kira while in L's custody. I need no one. I don't even need you, Mikami. Never think of yourself as indispensable. If you fail me, you fail yourself, and there is no worth in your existence here with me or anywhere else."

"Forgive me. I realise what a- "

"That's enough. One thing I like about you, Mikami, is your economy of words. From now on, we will be the only ones who have meetings. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Kira-sama."

"Good," Light said, content. He placed his empty glass back on the tray, stood, and walked to the door which led into his office. "Now go to the waiting room and clear up the mess you made. You know what to do."

Mikami stood, thinking that Light had left. He placed the palms of his hands flat on the table, but they shook visibly. He grasped his own wrist with one hand to steady it and turned suddenly as Light spoke again. He'd been standing by the door, watching him. His tone more kind and world-weary.

"Don't look so worried," he said. "I'm not angry with you. This is nothing because we ended it here, but it could have led to the end, don't you see? All this around us is on a tightrope, always. These floors would rot. This is just a lesson which you're best learning now. Every mistake you make brings yourself closer to your own death. None of those people should have died, but your mistake made it a necessity. Be grateful that it was they died and not you."

He walked towards Mikami and clasped him on the shoulder. "You're shaking," he said with interest before smiling, then he walked away, took a breath, and looked out the huge windows view across the city.

"There's something stimulating about it, don't you think? When death is so close. When you hold life and death in each hand it makes everything seem so real and vital. Sometimes I think... thought, that this kind of mastery wasn't meant for us; that our path was to live without meaning and slowly destroy each other in this unendurable closeness. It's painful to be so conscious of your own kind's failings and know that you are hurtling towards the same bleak existence. But then, this gift was given to me for a reason, and I had faith in myself when I realised what I could do. For above all people, only I should control the course of the world."

* * *

**A/N** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed lately. Special thanks to **Madame Jelly** who always sends me the most wonderful, well thought out messages and writes fantastic stories on here.


	22. Bigmouth Strikes Again

**Chapter 22**

**Bigmouth Strikes Again**

**Bill:** Now... When it comes to you, and us, I have a few unanswered questions. So, before this tale of bloody revenge reaches its climax, I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to tell me the truth. However, therein lies a dilemma, because, when it comes to the subject of me, I believe you are truly and utterly incapable of telling the truth, especially to me, and least of all, to yourself. And, when it comes to the subject of me, I am truly and utterly incapable of believing anything you say.

**The Bride:** How do you suppose we solve this dilemma?

**Bill:** Well, it just so happens, I have a solution.

~ Dialogue from Kill Bil Vol.2 by Quentin Tarantino

* * *

Mikami's ringtone was set both on vibrate and with an annoying ringtone for calls from anyone apart from Kira and the labs as a warning for its equally annoying insignificance. It was slightly embarrassing when it rang like this in a public place. He was in the foyer of Kira's building and it conflicted with, what he thought was, a deeply professional persona.

He took his phone from his pocket, his eyebrows rising a little from the anonymous number. Only a letter L was an indication of who was calling. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the phone as it continued to play 'The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy'. He answered the call and slowly lifted the phone to his ear.

* * *

"What is it, Mikami?" Light said, surprised that Mikami didn't knock first and wait to be allowed into Light's office as he usually did. As Mikami walked up to his desk, Light noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the peculiar way he was clasping his hand over his phone, to muffle it. Ryuk drifted behind Mikami like an ominous black cloud, peering over his shoulder at the phone.

"A call has come through from someone claiming... Sir, they are claiming to be L," Mikami said nervously. He was panic stricken. Light stared at him for a moment, and then at the phone in his hands. "Sir?" Mikami asked. He had no idea what to do. Light almost felt sorry for him but mostly he just needed a minute to adjust to the idea of L being on the phone first. "Kira-sama, he wants to speak to you. He has already traced our location. I'm sorry, sir. I think we should relocate immediately. You must leave right now."

"Put it on speakerphone," Light said.

"Kira-sama, we should at least attempt to verify this before you -"

"I said, put it on speakerphone, Mikami!"

Mikami hesitated before reluctantly pressing the button. Immediately Light heard the far away sound of breathing and something behind it, a breeze almost, like the call from coming from someone at the bloody seaside. Light indicated to Mikami to speak.

"Kira is listening," Mikami said.

"Is Kira going to speak?" a voice asked, petulantly. It was familiar, being digitally masked, as was L's usual wont. Mikami pouted and looked at Light, who waved his hand for him to answer.

"He is listening. That should be enough," he said.

"This is pointless if we are to communicate through a third party," L replied. He sounded like he was swiftly losing interest, although the monotonous effect of the voice masking wouldn't make him sound particularly animated at the best of times.

"How can we sure that you are indeed L?" Mikami asked. Light was looking through the window now, but Mikami could tell that he was simply listening to L's voice, trying to gauge whether he was who he said he was.

"How can I be sure that Kira is there if he will not speak?" L said. "Does he have laryngitis?"

Light sighed and held out his hand for the phone. Mikami handed it over, looking half terrified, half relieved to be rid of it. Light took it and turned off the speaker, talking into the phone directly.

"L?" he said.

"Kira?"

"Wouldn't you know if I am Kira or not?"

"All voices sound very similar."

"You're not L."

"I assure you that-"

"No. You're not. Where is L?"

"This _is_ L."

"Put L on or this call will end in record time."

"..."

"Well?" Light asked. He wasn't willing to give up on the call just yet. He saw no reason why anyone would impersonate L. For all the world knew, L had disappeared. Even if he was still alive, he was defeated and an outlaw. Using the L persona would be an insanely dangerous method of contacting Kira, unless it was by L's own instigation, in which case, only he knew that being L would be the only way Light would even entertain such a call. Besides, only L could link Mikami to Kira and find his number. Light was sure that L was behind this somewhere, but he wasn't who was speaking to him now. The line was quiet, muted. The background noise had gone. Light waited until after a few more moments, a new voice spoke, this time without the sound masking system.

"Alright, Kira-kun. Since you can see past voice masks."

"Stay on the line," Light said, before muffling the phone with his hand. "Mikami, please go outside," he ordered. Mikami's agitation leapt forth again with a nervously fast splutter of words.

"Sir, we should at least attempt to trace the call if you -"

"We can do that later. Just go outside and I don't want to be disturbed by anyone until I contact you." Mikami nodded like a sad child. He was never in a position to argue, so he left Light's office. Ryuk was at the side of the door and watched him leave before looking back at Light, who glared at him as if trying to force him outside by telekinesis. Eventually Light gave up and put the phone back to his ear. "I'm alone now. Are you?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm alone. I hope I didn't interrupt a party or anything." L's voice was exactly how Light remembered it. It was really the only thing he could recall with absolute and perfect clarity. Everything else was slightly hazy and tarnished with other unrelated things.

"I... I don't know what to say," Light said, noticing Ryuk floating closer towards him from the corner of his eye.

"Should we pick up where our last conversation left off?" L said, with fake cheerfulness. "Let's see. I said, 'But Light! You don't have a heart to break! And yet look at mine, weeping on the floor! Look! You trod on it, you swine!' And then _you_ said -"

"Yes, yes, I know. Are you alright? What's happened? Is something wrong with my mother or Sayu?"

"You mean you really don't know? I thought you would have had spies checking up on them. I suspected the postman as being one of your cronies and had him followed for weeks. Oh well. I'm perfectly alright, thank you, and as far as I know your mother and sister are as well as can be expected, considering that they're on their own now. Really, I didn't think you would completely abandon them and expect me to look after them for you. Rather like stabbing someone in the chest and then asking them to please dispose of their own body. But then you'd know all about doing that, I suppose. Naomi Misora comes to mind. Still, here I am, landed with your family. No alimony, nothing."

"How are they?" Light asked, ignoring L's editorialising.

"I really don't know, Light. I sent Matsuda with details of an annuity in some kind of show of appreciation for the dedication and sacrifice of Yagami-san and, rather hilariously, your good self. Matsuda visits them fairly often from what I hear. I can't be sure, but I suspect he's seeing your sister. Yes, Light. Seeing her. In that sense. What do you think about that? He hasn't said anything to them either. I think he'd rather believe you were dead too. Don't kill him though, he's a good sort and I'm positive that he's not fucking your sister with abandon as we speak. I'm just not sure what your father would say. Anyway, I'm sure if there were any problems then Matsuda would let me know."

"And they don't know?"

"About you? No. They think you're dead. Officially, you're dead. Seemed appropriate. Didn't you see the notice in the paper? Really, Light, you're very slack these days. Your whole life was described; 'A brilliant, shining hope of a generation dying in the line of duty. Killed alongside his father.' Something like that. You were quite the national hero for a while. It just omitted the fact that you're Kira and all, so it was a rather touching write-up. You can imagine how I laughed over that one. Still, my reputation has suffered slightly."

Light hunched over from the feeling of guilt heavy on his shoulders. He hadn't thought much of his mother or Sayu over the last few months. It was true that he'd just expected L to look after them, though he had checked his mother's bank account and saw to it that a mysterious tax rebate had miraculously appeared there. He sighed, trying to think of what to say. "I.. err... want to thank you."

"Oh no, what did I do to earn your thanks?" L replied.

"For taking care of my family when I couldn't."

"I'm sure that you could have, Light, you just didn't want to. I didn't do anything for a while, thinking you might contact your family or spirit them away somewhere, but then I realised that even if you did contact them, they wouldn't tell me about it. And then I really couldn't think how you could come up with an explanation for everything, even with your expert lying skills. As it happens, when it was evident that you had abandoned them entirely, I was left to come up with the explanations. That was all."

"What explanation did you give?"

"As I said; you died fighting the good fight against Astraea and Kira but sadly you and your father were killed and it was all very sad. Your grave is next to Yagami-san's. You had a nice coffin, but some other poor boy was in it, and with his head blown off, unfortunately. Then you were cremated and I'm sure that was fun too. The funeral was a packed house though your father was the only one who deserved it."

"You went?"

"Where?"

"To the funeral?"

"To sniffle in the corner? No. Anyway, quick catch up, your family is devastated but fine financially. Sayu is in school. I have no idea about her grades because I couldn't care less, but they're probably awful since you're not there to do her homework for her. Apparently she has aspirations to file people's nails for a living or be a 'stylist' or something. I didn't know that was an actual job. Your mother is on 20mg of prozac a day, goes to therapy and has joined a weekly ikebana class. So yes, everything's fine, despite the world being stamped with a Kira brand and quite quickly crumbling into a despotic state. The price of sugar has gone up though. You really should start to tackle inflation."

"Don't joke. I don't know how you can joke. A slap in the face and some bravado is so typically you."

"I'm not joking and it's not bravado though I would gladly give you a slap in the face. I'm simply relaying facts. Besides, you should know that I'm always serious when it comes to sugar. If it gets any worse I may have to do something."

"What do you mean?" Light asked. It was like they'd finally got to the point of the call.

"I haven't been sitting around moping and being idle, Light. Neither have you, I suspect."

"What is this about, L? Why have you contacted me? Just showing off?"

"Oh come on now, Light. Call me by my real name. We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Just tell me what you want."

"I only wanted to say hi really. That and to let you know that your staff should be more careful. It was painfully easy to find your employee's number and I was left disappointed and vaguely insulted. Lax security leads to all kinds of problems."

"That can't be all. Have you changed your mind?"

"About what? Thinking that you were a semi-decent excuse for a human being who I would quite like to sleep with multiple times? Yes, I've changed my mind there."

"About your stance on things. Are you going to join me?"

"Good God, no," L said emphatically. He'd rather have all his teeth pulled out with a pair of toenail clippers.

Light grimaced. "Then why the hell are you calling then?"

"Like I said, just to touch base."

"We can't talk like this over the phone. We should meet." Light realised that there was one pro to a shelf-load of cons where this idea was concerned, but he would think about protecting himself from the reasons he shouldn't see L at a later time.

"I don't think I'll be meeting you for lunch, Kira. Strangely, I value my life."

"Don't flatter yourself that you're important enough to kill."

"Some of the things you say would sound like threats if they came from someone vaguely threatening. Oh, yes. You can kill remotely, can't you? My mistake."

"That's not fair," Light said, sadly, betraying how hurt he felt to be rejected with so little fanfare. Somehow he thought L would want to see him for the same selfish reasons. It seemed that despite everything, L was all business, and his business was to make Light feel as bad as possible. "You know that I wouldn't hurt you," he added, kindly, which was always the sting in his tail.

L let out a dismissive, scoffing sound. "Any more than you have already, you mean? I wouldn't be so sure of that based on our past encounters actually. Of all the cruel things you've done to me, I think that locking me in a warehouse with Matsuda was the worst. And what makes you think that I wouldn't hurt you? Anyway, you're your own worst advertising campaign, so forgive me if I don't believe you when you say that you wouldn't hurt me, lock me up, drug me, kill me, whatever. I know you're probably in an ivory tower and have a tie rack and a lot of servants wafting peacock feather fans over you right now, but you really should go outside every so often. Yes, your news stations would have us believe that everything's roses, but it really isn't, Light. You have detention centres which are actually extermination camps. Vlad the Impaler would be proud of you."

"I don't have to justify myself to you. They're prisons, not extermination camps."

"How do you explain the fact that people go in but never come out then? Ever. In fact, they're never heard of again and all because they disagreed with you. But then you never did like it when people disagreed with you, did you? You must surely be running out of space in your little book. Are you using shorthand nowadays for efficiency?"

"There was always going to be an period of adjustment," Light stated clearly. He seemed to remember saying something similar to Mikami when the prison ideas were being developed. "Some people can't accept change."

"Ah, is that a reference to how I disagree with you on just about everything?" L asked.

"I never really cared what you thought."

"Oh. Well that's alright then."

"Look, we can meet in neutral ground."

"Like Switzerland?"

"And I'll take your word if you take mine. If I wanted to kill you then I would have done it a long time ago."

"So we're meeting up for a coffee in Switzerland? Maybe we could see a show. Go skiing. Make a day of it."

"Stop it. I'm not joking and you're wasting time."

"I'm not going to meet with you, Light. That would be beyond stupid of me and despite what you think, I'm not stupid. Nor am I a pre-pubescent girl. I can live without seeing you."

"Then what is the point of this phone call? Just come out with it. I don't have time for this."

"Yes, I understand. You must be terribly busy and important. I'll leave you to it," L said, calmly. Light actually physically jumped at the idea of L cutting him off.

"No, wait. Don't go!"

"Do you want me to stay on the line so you can trace the call? There's no point in doing that, I'm afraid."

"I'm not going to trace your call. Just... do you have a number that I can reach you on? I swear to you that I won't trace it."

"I don't think that's a good idea. The last thing I need at the moment is midnight chats with you. Maybe this call isn't a good idea either but I couldn't resist phoning you once we had the number. Just for clarification purposes, of course. As you've probably gathered, it wasn't my intention to speak to you."

"Who _was_ the idiot pretending to be you?" Light asked, sounding positively reptilian.

"Just an idiot apparently. You know me, I have terrible staff. We seem have that in common."

"You're not trying to do something stupid are you?"

"I'm not doing anything stupid, Light. Apart from speaking to you."

"Good, because I would hate to kill you." Light smiled before he really thought about what he'd said. The idea of killing people was like an automatic response now.

"Mmm... I'm sure you would," L replied, lazily.

"In the same way that I'm sure you don't want to kill me, otherwise you would have done it by now."

"Or maybe I just didn't like the modus operandi you've given me. Now, Light, there is something I could tell you to save this from being a completely useless conversation. I thought you might like to know that killing Matt was a dreadful thing."

"Who? Oh, that red-haired bastard? It was necessary, L. I thought you'd understand that much at least."

"Yes, I would. If you'd killed the right person that is."

"What are you talking about?"

"I presume you killed Matt for a reason other than that you disliked him, otherwise a lot more people would be dead. Matsuda for instance. Then again, it doesn't seem like you're holding back on killing people."

"Hilarious," Light said, lighting a cigarette.

"You didn't kill V's son."

"Yes. I did."

"What is this, a pantomime? No, you didn't. Matt wasn't V's son. He was a... well, he wasn't a completely innocent bystander, but you mistook him for someone else. Are you smoking? Why are you breathing like that?"

"Yes, I'm smoking. And why are you lying about this? He was V's son. I made sure. That can't be right."

"He wasn't, but I suppose that he's just another road block in the road which you drove through so it can't matter to you. And smoking is very bad for you, Light. Is this some late-onset teenage rebellion to make you look hedonistic and grown up?"

"No. He and V were always together. I got confirmation that he was her son by an Astraea secretary and she gave me his name. V didn't exactly go 'phew!' when I showed her his name written in the Death Note. She died in some pathetic attempt to save him."

"But did you tell V his name after you'd made her write her own name in the Death Note? I really don't think she'd tell you that you'd cocked up at that point. You would have proven it to her before she died because that's just you. You're a show-off, just like me. You expect people to applaud you. And secretaries are notoriously terrible with particulars. They must have assumed Matt was V's son for the same reason that you did. There lies your problem, your background checks are rather shaky. You might as well have asked a traffic warden who V's son was."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie?"

"To try and undermine me. You're bitter that I beat you and didn't even care enough to give you the satisfaction of a noble death."

"No, I was more offended. You know why. Anyway, I'm not that petty, Light."

"This is pretty low for you. To resort to lying over such a trivial thing which wouldn't matter now even if it were true."

"Believe what you want then. I can't say that your disdain for human life is news to me. So you killed someone? It wasn't the person you intended but he probably had it coming anyway. My God, you're a hideous stain on the world, aren't you? I saw something in you once, but for the life of me I can't think of what it could have been. Were you always this vile? Ah, I'm sorry, Light, but the kettle's boiling so I must be off."

"You're kidding me. I won't forgive you if you go now. You haven't given me an opportunity to say anything."

"There might be a reason for that. Like perhaps I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

"_You_ phoned _me_."

"No, my idiot faux-L did, remember? Then you demanded to speak to me like the spoiled blight on humanity that you are."

"Don't pretend to be indifferent and how dare you call me that? You were always spiteful and selfish. If you actually could forget about your pride for a moment and think about what I'm trying to do, unbiased, not as L, then you would see that I'm the only person who can build a perfect world. Forget about L for a minute. Why can't you do that? Why could you never do that? Stop seeing this as a game of you versus me when it's more than that."

"Oh not this again. I tried to understand you, and my conclusion has always been that you're no different from any other murderer. Every murderer tries to justify what they do. Usually they say that the Devil made them do it, or God, or a fictional character, or their imaginary friend, or Freddie Mercury. The only way you're different is that you must know that what you're doing is wrong since you're not utterly insane, though maybe some therapy in your early teens would have done you a lot of good. But instead, it's easier for you to believe that you're god. Chosen. After all, you have the tool to allow yourself to be god above all others, and how you have managed to do what you have done is quite a feat. Really. I've always been impressed by you, Light. Even when you were just a lost soul that I was chained to. Because you are lost and you always have been. But, yes. I can understand why you would think that you're better than everyone else and can make the world a wonderful place for people like your father. That's what this is really about, isn't it?"

"Don't talk about him."

"Don't tell me that you feel guilty?"

"No. He died so that others can live."

"Oh, so he should have been honoured? I'm not sure that he would have seen it that way. The truth is that you have been consumed by this power you have and all the possibilities it offers you, no one else. Why think for one moment that perhaps you're doing a terrible thing and that your bizarre reasoning is worse than a cheap romance novel in an airport? No, of course, you must be god. Silly me. Forgive me, Light, and let me polish your shoes. It all makes perfect sense now."

"You know, I've always found it funny how you think that after a few months of living under the same roof, you can claim know my mind. You never understood me, I never wanted you to. To be understood is to be dead. Your smugness is absolutely repulsive. How can you know anything if we never spoke about it? All you know is what I've given to you. You know nothing about the Death Note. Do you think the rules inside are all there is to it?"

"Well let's talk about it now then. How did you get the Death Note? Do you expect me to believe that it just dropped out of the sky? Who was the first person you killed? Was it a mistake? Was it an idle, curious scribble in that book of yours?" L said, his voice rising with anger as Light's had.

"Why should I tell you? I'm not your captive suspect now and you don't deserve to know anyway."

"I see. Very well then, let me throw this to you. I think that you killed someone with the Death Note not realising that it would actually happen. Then you were confronted with the idea that not only had you murdered someone, but that you did it using some apparently god-given book. Anyone else would be horrified by what they'd done, but you think that it makes you special? To justify the initial murder you decide to use the book for 'good' and that maybe you can eradicate evil by using it, discounting yourself, of course. An impersonal method of killing would appeal to you since you never liked to get your hands dirty and it's something appropriately grandiose to do because you are so very bored."

"Stop it."

"Does that mean that I'm right? I know that I'm right. It appealed to your ego. You never wanted to accept that you were just another statistic and your only option beforehand was a normal life due to a complete lack of imagination. Life is empty, isn't it? Your intelligence is meaningless. The most you could hope to do without the Death Note is be a copper, just like your father. He's the best man you know, and he works and works and comes home to a small house, disheartened by a flawed justice system and a never-ending stream of evil doers. What great impression will he have made upon the world at the end of it all? None at all. No one will remember his name in a a few decades, and you'll end up just like him. But then I come in and the police all over the world are looking for you so it becomes so much more, doesn't it? It's a game now. So some people might die along the way who might not deserve it but in the great scheme of things, it's nothing. You probably see yourself as quite a martyr to the cause, don't you? A god of death with red hands. Tristan with a bloody ugly portrait in the attic. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Only that you've spent far too much time thinking about me and are twisting things to suit your own purpose."

"That's another thing we have in common then."

"Jesus, I forgot how infuriating you are. And to think that I actually missed you." Light sighed, as he always did when L out-talked him and said something which was a bit too close to the truth. He regretted what he said, since it left him vulnerable. L only needed to say that he didn't miss him, they didn't share that in common, and that would be it. But this didn't happen. Light could hear a breath on the other end of the line, originally intended to carry a retort, shake out of him. When L spoke again he was calm, like he was resigning to Light in some way.

"I'll meet you if you tell me about the Death Note. Tell me everything," he said. Light laughed.

"No."

"Please. I... I do want to see you, Light."

"No. I don't trust you. It would just be questions, answers, and accusations, like this. There's never been anything between us apart from those things."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. I want you to understand but you won't. If we'll never be on the same page then what's the fucking point?"

"Make me understand then. Like you said, how can I understand if you won't tell me anything?"

"It's alright, L, really. You're a detective and you don't need people to explain things to you. You're supposed to work them out for yourself, even if you're wrong. And carry on because I like you that way."

"That's it then, carry on?" L asked.

"I'm glad you phoned. I'm glad that I heard your voice."

"No, don't go. I handled this badly, I'm sorry. I didn't expect to speak to you and I was angry. I'm still angry but... I handled this badly."

"No, you did fine, L. I think we're both torn between what we want and what we have to do."

"Don't patronise me, please. Why couldn't you have just talked without asking for me? I'd written a script for faux-L and everything. Why couldn't you have played along?"

"Because I didn't want to speak to faux-L. I wanted to speak to you."

"Well I didn't want to speak to you."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that but at least you've learned something today," Light crushed out the cigarette he hadn't smoked and which had burned to a line of ash between his fingers. "This is what's it's like to have to something you don't want to do."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Only that you could have learned it twenty or so years ago like everyone else."

"No. You meant that you've had to do things you didn't want to do."

"Of course I have."

"So it _was_ all a lie then. Every part of it. I knew it, but it's hard to actually hear you say it. What with the 'I'm not Kira, L! Let's shag in the bathroom!' and 'I didn't kill Watari!' until the end of time. I knew all the time, and what's worse is that I didn't care about what you were and who you killed as long as I was near you. But, God, you're a good actor. I wanted to believe you, and you made it so easy."

"Are you having a seizure?" Light asked, leaning over his desk. "Oh! No, L. Not you. That wasn't a lie. I told you once that whatever you believe that I... We... Shit. Remember?"

"And as I once said, you have said a lot of things, all of which have proven to be lies."

"I had to lie. I didn't want to lie to you at all but if I had admitted to being Kira then you would have put me in prison. I didn't kill Watari, but if I'd admitted to any part in it then you would have hated me, and again with the putting me in prison."

"You did kill him. The whole gala massacre was your idea and although Misa wrote his name, it was on your order."

"I needed proof for the investigation that Misa had used the Death Note. Look, none of that matters. It was necessary. But I never lied about you and me because that was completely separate. Watari didn't love you. You were nothing but an invention to him, his best invention. I have no reason to lie to you now, do I? I loved you... I still do. Believe me, I'd rather that I didn't."

"I suppose not. I'm so ashamed of myself, Light. I should be getting information from you. I should be biting your hand off for the chance to get you in the open and apprehend you but all I'm doing is-"

"Being a complete bitch," Light interrupted. He heard L laugh sadly.

"It's very easy to push these things aside but it will always come out in the end."

"You were always a little bit needy," Light said, lighting another cigarette.

"I just didn't think that you'd leave me. Not like that."

"No, you wanted me institutionalised. You wanted me to leave on your own terms."

"You need institutionalising. I don't think a weekend break will sort you out. I'm so angry because you got away and I failed. Watari, you, everyone. I'm angry because I let Kira get away and I had you _right_ there. There, with the book in your hand. Done. I should have finished this long before that. And I did miss you, I do. I hate you for that. All I can think of is that maybe you lied that entire time because that's the obvious conclusion. If it was the other way around I would have made you believe whatever made it easier for me, not just about Kira, but about us. Now all I can think of is that you're wherever you are, in a suit, laughing at me to someone. I don't know why I care. I didn't care about you to start with."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I just wanted to see how far you'd go really. I thought it was just you trying something desperate. Like you were an actress whoring herself out to a producer for a role in a film."

"Right. Ok. I wasn't doing that. I'm not sure what I was doing, but I definitely wasn't doing that."

"Light, you disappoint me."

"Sorry. Did you really think I was a whore? I was 17 for fuck's sake. I had girlfriends you know?"

"And your point is? You were a murderer by that time."

"Don't say it like that."

"Why not? It's true. Oh wait, I forgot again. You're a god. Gods don't murder, they just end people's lives."

"L, I don't want to argue anymore. I haven't spoken to you for months and I really don't want to spend this time arguing."

"No. I don't either. We always end up arguing," L agreed quietly. "Light, know that I wanted to see you. That I didn't want to fight you."

"I know. It's just the way things are, isn't it?"

"And, I still love you, like I did before. That hasn't changed. Though I really wish it would."

Light stopped when he saw Ryuk staring at him with his mouth open, teeth exposed, his eyes wide with a look of anticipation. Light turned away from him and tried to speak as quietly as he could into the phone. "L?"

"Yes?"

"If you give up the Death Note, and there's a way to do that, when you do, you lose your memories of it. Everything you did in relation to it is gone. I gave up the Death Note when you put me in that cell. I had it all planned so you couldn't find me guilty. So... until I got my memories back, which was Hashimoto, by the way. He had my Death Note and when I touched it again I got my memories back. But until then, that was just me. So, you and me, y'know. That wasn't a plan I figured in. I just thought that you'd want to know."

"So there is a way to get rid of the Death Note? You can give it up?" L asked, latching onto that piece of trivia.

"Yes. But it's not as simple as that," Light sighed.

"And it can be destroyed."

"I don't know."

"It burns. I burnt Misa's Death Note and there was nothing left. It was just normal paper."

"L, listen to me-"

"You must give up the Death Note again. That's the only way this can end."

"I can't," Light said. He was getting agitated because L really didn't get it at all and was obviously fixated on this idea of his.

"Yes you can. I won't leave you, Light. If you give up the Death Note and your memories, all this will be over. I'll never tell you what you did. I'll destroy the Death Note and you'll never know about what you were. It'll just be something that happened and people will forget."

"No, L. You don't understand. I can't do that -"

"Light, what you are doing is wrong. You know that nagging doubt in the back of your head? That's because you know what you are doing is wrong and you don't want to do it anymore. We can end it and you can work with me."

"It's not wrong, for God's sake. Ha. No institutions, just a lifetime of 'making amends'?"

"I don't care about that. Making amends is something that people like nuns do. But you can work, like me."

"With you?"

"Yes. And if you leave-"

"I wouldn't leave," Light said. He flatly rejected all this and was seemingly entertaining it for L's benefit and for his amusement. "I wouldn't know how to, would I? Leave to go where? I'd be like a living trophy to you. Like you would ever let me go. And as you said, I'm officially dead. How would I explain that to the tax office?"

"What I know of emotions is that they're transient. You might one day leave, but that's alright. I'll make sure you have everything you have now."

"Buildings and staff and suits and all that? You think I care about those things?"

"I know that you would be very dissatisfied without them."

"Enough. Enough of this tour through fairy land. I can't give up the Death Note for many reasons you can't understand. Not just because I need to do this and what I'm doing is right, but because I can't live without it. I don't mean that in an addictive, poetic sense, I just mean exactly that. I would be dead within five minutes."

"Why?" L asked. Light had focused on Ryuk's disgusting flaming eyes, not far from his own face as he was desperately trying to overhear both sides of the conversation. Ryuk smile grew wider, daring Light to reveal anymore to L. He heard L calling his name through the phone.

"Yes, I'm here. It's not something I can explain like this. You can work it out," Light said, still staring at Ryuk.

"But you gave it up before and you didn't die," L countered.

"That was different."

"How was it different?"

"I told you, I can't explain. If you saw me, you'd understand. You'd see him."

"Him? Who? Light stop playing, just tell me."

"Think of Faust, L. It's Faust on a shorter time scale."

"I can't believe that the Devil is going to carry you off into Hell, Light."

"Maybe, maybe not. But he'd kill me and that's all there is to it."

"So along with the Death Note there is also a Devil? Right. I can accept this. Just give me a minute. It's a good job I'm sitting down."

"A Shinigami actually, but more or less the same thing."

"Shinigami. So your message to me that gods of death have red hands, that was true? That's how it works? Alright. Well since we know that much, now we can figure out a way around this."

"There isn't one."

"But you haven't really thought about it seriously. You've just accepted it and carried on with whatever Pinky and the Brain plot you made up as a 17 year old who wasn't even able to make a decision about what socks he bought without parental input. There has to be a way."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"No, I'm glad you did. We can solve this now and I can help you."

"Your idea of help was an asylum a few months ago so what's changed? Really, L, it doesn't matter. I wouldn't give the Death Note up anyway, not after all I've done. But you deserve to know that my situation is not like Misa's or anyone else's. Misa could have given up the Death Note and lived the rest of her life in complete ignorance. I wouldn't, and that's all you need to know. But as I say, it's inconsequential. I don't want to give up the Death Note, even for you. I just want you to know these things because... well, because nothing is as simple as you think. I'm not a kid on a power trip who doesn't know his arse from his elbow. I'm not making excuses for anything I've done, even though I know some of it has hurt people, including you, because it was unavoidable. Forget that, I want you to know that some things I said were lies, but the important things weren't. Not to sound lovey-dovey, but I want you to know that you weren't part of my plan."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better or something?"

"Yes. I mean, that it happened without Kira being a part of it, if that makes any sense. It just brought us together. We wouldn't have met otherwise."

"Oh, I'm so grateful because it's done wonders for me. So it was the bomb that brought us together? Rubbish. Let's not get misty-eyed about things that are not important."

"It is important. You need to know."

"What? That you had no memories and then you did? That you continued your little march against humanity despite me? What made you Kira was there the whole time and it wasn't that bloody book, but it doesn't matter. Light, this is a chance. I'm offering you a chance."

"And I'm telling you that even if I wanted to, I couldn't. It would be completely pointless. I'd just be a stupid corpse in a morgue."

"Just leave it with me. We should meet and try to work through this."

"L," Light said, sighing and rubbing his head, "there's no point."

"I don't believe that."

"Then what can I do? You're clever but you're not _that_ clever. This is my area, so leave it alone. If you've burned Misa's Death Note then that's probably for the best. Just let whatever is going to happen, happen."

"I can't do that, Light. You know that."

"Please don't fight me, L. I don't want to, but I will destroy you if you force me to. You haven't lost because this was never a game that you could win. I never seriously saw you as opposition in any real sense. This was always beyond you."

"Really? Well then, since I'm just going to gracefully bow out, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to say this as clearly as I can. You're going to back off and I'm going to do what I have to."

"Which is?" L asked.

"You know that I'm not going to tell you."

"How mysterious. Going by your track record, that's a code word for 'something big and terrible'. Are you planning to clear the decks? Kill everyone in some biblical catastrophe and start again?"

"No. I never thought of that. That's a good idea. You'd be quite good at this."

"That's very funny but anyone can be a raving lunatic if they put their minds to it. Light, I'm going to ask you one last time. Meet with me on the understanding that we will be working together to put an end to Kira and tear it down. Just come back to me, Light."

"I told you that I can't."

"You mean, you won't."

"Whatever gets you through the night. I'm sorry." Light listened to the silence on the other end of the line which seemed to drag on forever before L spoke again.

"Then that's all there is to say. I won't contact you again."

"You won't?"

"No, I don't think it's right. It would be better for both of us if we don't speak again."

"Please don't say that. We can talk without arguing can't we?"

"And pretend that you're not Kira and I'm not L?"

"Yes."

"I can't do that, Light. Neither can you."

"I can, L."

"I'm sorry."

"Promise me that I'll see you again. Sometimes... sometimes I can't remember your face. Why is that? I remember all these useless names and faces that I only looked at for a second, but not your face. Promise me."

"I promise," L whispered and Light breathed because he believed him. "You see, Light, I'm not angry with you. I blame myself for this."

"L, it's not your fault. If it didn't happen this way, it would have happened another way."

"So, this is your calling then? It's not something you can't find your way out of. It's not a challenge, it's your calling?"

"Yes. I suppose it is, if you want to describe it that way."

There was a long silence then during which Light realised how tightly he was holding the phone. He sank back into his chair and sensed Ryuk behind him with that terrible grin. Everything was a joke to him. Light wished he could feel the same. He loosened his grip on the phone and looked out the window. Until this point he hadn't noticed the beeping of horns and the irregular stream of traffic outside the building. It must be rush hour. He couldn't see them, but he could imagine the floods of people crossing the road when the lights told them it was safe. Then he heard L speak again.

"I think I understand now," he said. "Put the phone down, Light. Do it now."

* * *

**A/N** Thanks again to everyone who has read/faved/left reviews. I might not have the most reviews in the world, but I have the best reviewers.


	23. Stop me if you've heard this one before

**A/N** So this is the one in which Mello continues to be stupid. He's so annoying. Considering how Mello is one of my favourite characters in the manga, I've done a bang up job of turning him into a right eejit here. There's not much to say apart from that I based Aizawa in this on a person I know who says the most offensive, stupid things but is quite a nice person otherwise. We all know one.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

** Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before**

_I was delayed, I was waylaid_  
_An emergency stop_  
_I smelt the last ten seconds of life_  
_I crashed down on the crossbar_  
_And the pain was enough_  
_To make a shy, bald Buddhist reflect_  
_And plan a mass murder_  
_Who said I'd lied to her?_  
_Oh, who said I'd lied, because I never, I never_  
_Who said I lied, because I never_

_I was detained, I was restrained_  
_And broke my spleen and broke my knee_  
_And then he really lays into me_  
_Friday night in Outpatients_  
_Who said I'd lied to her?_  
_Oh, who said I lied?_

_Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before_

_Nothing's changed, I still love you_  
_Oh, I still love you_  
_Only slightly, only slightly less_  
_Than I used to, my love_

_You'll remember me the morning_  
_You'll remember me tonight_  
_Say this is not an accident, no, this is just how you planned it_

_Friday Night in A&E ~_ The Smiths vs Morning Parade by The Reborn Identity

* * *

People often speak about staying in a place forever when they realise with the anchor of certainty that they are happy. L had never known such a feeling, so he had never even tried to fathom such wistful recollections in books. It might as well have been a riddle in an ancient language he didn't understand, but now he could. And it wasn't a place he thought of, it was a moment which had passed and one he knew he would never experience again. He could live it over again in his mind, but it wasn't the same. It was coloured with sadness and the wickedness of its passing. He often wished he hadn't known it at all.

* * *

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only straight man in the room. I've got nothing against it. What you do in your own time is your own business," Aizawa said.

Everyone was waiting for L to return from his talk with Kira and though they had waited a good while, they were yet to discuss sending out a rescue party, a St. Bernard dog and some warm blankets. Instead, Mello had taken to singing 'Bring Him Home' from _Les Misérables_ in an unconvincing and emotionless tenor. It was all a bit much for Aizawa.

Mello looked up momentarily from polishing his shoes with his shirt cuff before turning his attention to the silver cross on his rosary. "Don't tell me, you've got nothing against it because some of your best friends are Homo sapiens?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. Wait, hold on, what did you say? Homo sapiens? Of course they are!"

"Sorry but you walked right into that one. But in regards to homosexuals, since you bring it up, we're still unsure about Near. Personally, I think he's undecided. Maybe secretly tormented by demons and a liking for sequins which he's trying to cover up with his brutish attire. So yeah, looks like you are alone after all. Three poofs and a piano, or whatever. Careful though, it's catching," Mello winked mischievously. "And he likes you, y'know,"

"Oh look, my internal organs have spilled out all over the floor from all the laughing I'm doing. Seriously, is it a rule that all detectives must be gay or play for both teams? Did you know that when you signed up, Matsuda?" Aizawa asked. Unfortunately, Matsuda didn't seem to be listening, so Mello answered for him.

"No, but it helps. Aw, Near, did you hear that? He called you a detective. A real one. Just like Papa Bear."

"Obviously he didn't mean that _you_ were a detective," Near replied as he discarded one playing card for another.

"Meow."

As talk fizzled out as quickly as it had started, everyone went back to searching for something to do to pass the time. After a few minutes, during which the rain pelting oustide was quite audible, Matsuda spoke up with a tour de force.

"Urgh, it's still raining."

"What a surprise," Mello said. He leaned back into his chair as he watched Aizawa sigh and leave to make himself a coffee.

"It's very unseasonal to have this much rain don't you think?" Matsuda asked.

"I wouldn't know."

"I suppose you're used to it."

Mello screwed his face up with the inanity of it all. "Why would I be used to rain? Oh, yeah. You mean because we lived in Britain, the land of brollies. Good one."

"Does it rain as much as they say?"

"What is with small talk? Are you intimidated by my company or something?"

"No. I was trying to make conversation."

"Well don't. Ta."

Matsuda turned away from Mello and looked to Aizawa. "L's been in there a long time," he said, nervously picking the skin from around his fingernails. Moments passed in silence as no one made any indication that they'd even heard him, never mind agree with his observation. Mello breathed out. He crumpled up the foil from a chocolate bar in his fist and threw it in the general direction of the bin. Whether intentionally or not, the silver ball bounced off the top of Near's head, who didn't even seem to register it. "Shouldn't someone check up on him?" Matsuda tried again, looking around at the positively bored faces and Mello's self-satisfied grin. "Don't you think someone should check on L?"

"Nah. He's good." Mello sighed, leaning back in his chair, tilting backwards. His black shoes made sharp angles against the curved lines of the pale desk. Matsuda was annoyed, particularly by Mello, who seemed to embody the general disinterest of everyone. He wasn't fond of him full stop. He was loud and brash and swore a lot. He was rude to L, who Matsuda thought deserved a hug, and often, but was too frightened to attempt doing it himself. In Matsuda's eyes, Mello either lazed around like a sedated cat or exploded with the sort of gung ho arrogance of a spoiled teenager on an Xbox, which was more or less what he was.

"How did Kira sound?" Matsuda said to Near.

Near looked up, his motions were slow but his eyes were bright and alert. "Kira, if it was Kira, sounded like a Japanese male in his late teens to early twenties."

"You've just been dying for someone to ask you, haven't you?" Mello said, sneering.

"Slim build," Near continued after a pause. "He was probably wearing a suit since he was definitely wearing a tie. Irritable."

"Irritable is a given but how can you tell that he's of slim build and is wearing a suit just by a phone call?"

"From the way his voice reverberated and by statistics of men of his ethnicity within his estimated age group. Also the slight sound of constriction in the area of his vocal chords suggested that he was wearing a tie," he smiled. "And therefore probably wearing a suit."

"Wow. Look at Mini-L!" Aizawa said on his return with a coffee in hand.

Mello grumbled to himself. The overall sound was similar to that of the hull of a ship scraping a barnacled seabed. "Complete bollocks," were the only discernible words.

"No it's not. Ask L when he comes back."

"Will do. So Kira is choking himself to death with badly fitting clothes?" He closed his eyes as he leaned back again in his chair. "I don't think that he's wearing a babygro but what you're saying is still ridiculous."

"You left before we did the speaker recognition course. It's not my problem you're unskilled."

"Unskilled?" Mello said, opening his eyes at the insult. "_I'm_ unskilled? Jesus."

"Boys! Boys!" Aizawa tutted and waved a limp hand at Matsuda in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, but it was Mello who saw the gesture.

"Piss off, Aizawa! What are you insinuating? I'll tell you this much, my desire to have sex with Near is as strong as my desire to have my eyes gouged out. You can have that for free and stick it up your arse while you're at it."

Aizawa ignored the the outburst with the inherent self-assurance of an older man who spoke when necessary or if it amused him to do so. It wasn't necessary or amusing to reply to an inflamed anus spewing verbal diarrhoea, so he patted Matsuda on the shoulder instead. He was concerned about him and was mainly acting for his benefit, thinking that banter might distract him. Matsuda wore his worried guilt like a pair of sunglasses and it was clear to anyone who cared that the young detective had changed a lot since Soichiro was killed by his son's hand. It was impossible for him to reconcile that the Light he had known and worked with for months could cause such destruction. While Aizawa retained a distrust for practically everyone he met and was therefore rarely disappointed or surprised, Matsuda did the opposite. During the time Light was imprisoned, Matsuda had been unable to voice his opinion that L had targeted Light - the gifted innocent - because of his precocious intellectual abilities which demanded admiration from a safe distance. This same boy had later been trusted as part of the team, only to leave them all tied up and humiliated on a cold warehouse floor. Matsuda couldn't quite get over that that trust he had so freely and unquestionably given, could be so misplaced.

After returning from Sochiro's funeral, Matsuda had approached L, partly to offer him his support, but also in the hope that he would find L as disturbed as he felt. Instead of consolation, L dismissed him with the painfully brusque comment that naivety was not a strong quality in anyone, let alone a detective like Matsuda, and that it was amazing that he had lived for so long in a rose-tinted world. Matsuda was told that no one had any time for a nervous breakdown, so he better get out or get on with it.

"It's nearly an hour now. He's been on the phone for nearly an hour," he said, breaking the brooding silence.

"It's his phone bill!" Mello shouted. "What is your problem?"

"Nothing."

"Well if you don't know then I don't. Calm the fuck down. He knows what he's doing. I mean, no, you wouldn't think Kira and L would have that much to say to each other but, y'know, maybe they're talking about the weather too." He turned to Near. "Is he still on the phone? Couldn't we listen in?"

"No, it's a private line."

"Bugger. I was sure Kira would put the phone down on at some point but obviously you were such a rubbishy pretend L that even a voice mask couldn't hide it. I think you were in there for about a minute before you gave yourself away, which is quite impressive."

"I don't know how he knew," Near replied, quietly. He stabbed an Action Man with L's fork. "I don't understand it."

"I told you. You're a useless pretend L and just useless generally. So," he continued, "I wonder what happens next. Theories? We need theories so I can mentally prepare myself for what happens next. What is _wrong_ with you, Matsuda? Why are you pacing and shit?"

"I'm just nervous, I guess."

"Right, no more coffee for you." Mello stared at the ceiling and exhaled with some apparent effort. "God, I'm bored."

"We could play Scrabble," Near suggested. As it happened there were scrabble pieces surrounding him on the floor.

"Fuck Scrabble. You always cheat anyway."

"I don't know why you can't accept that 'bazooms' is disallowed."

"It's a word."

"It's not in the Holy Scrabble Dictionary so it's not allowed."

"And 'vuvuzela' is?"

Near looked up at Mello with the icy glare of an Arctic fox defending his territory. "Yes. It is."

"Prove it. Get the dictionary."

"You should just take my word for it."

"I wouldn't take your word if it was the... oooh!" he broke off as L walked in, or, more accurately, slouched in. His feet barely lifted off the floor.

"Are you ok?" Matsuda asked. The room had taken on the atmosphere of a waiting room at an oncology clinic.

L looked up, appearing a little shocked that there were people in the room. "Yes. Thank you, Matsuda-san," he said, wandering past everyone like a lost child to pour himself a coffee.

"How did he sound?"

Mello snorted. "Like anyone cares how Kira sounded. Was he wearing a suit?"

"What?" L asked, quietly.

"Kira. Was he wearing a suit? Near said that he sounded like he was wearing a suit."

"I said it was likely that he was wearing a tie," Near clarified, always thinking of damage limitation.

L turned and stared into his coffee. "Oh. I suppose so."

"Ah shit," Mello said. He let his feet fall heavily from the desk and immediately stood up. "Anyway, do we war now?"

"I don't know, Mello. I need to think."

"There's nothing to think about. Just nod your head."

"Mello," Aizawa grumbled in warning.

"What? What is it? What is with the sombre? This is a serious win for Team L, isn't it? All the angels are singing. We know where Kira is and now we go and depth charge his arse."

L's silence as he held his coffee like a crystal ball and took his seat made Mello hopeful. "We're not depth charging him," he said eventually. Mello's disappointment and rage was palpable.

"Well, I didn't mean to actually depth charge him since this isn't _Das Boot_ but -"

"What did he say, Ryuzaki?" Aizawa interrupted.

"Nothing of any consequence. It's clear that he has no regrets or intention to cease and desist. Incidentally, I was contacted some time ago by one of the brave but befuddled resistance groups regarding a disillusioned employee of Kira. He wished to disclose information in exchange for my help in getting him out of the country and giving him and his family a new identity. As it happened, his information was hardly worth his taxi fare to the airport, but what is interesting is how isolated Kira has made himself. It is a powerful position on one hand, but incredibly dangerous on the other as to the chosen few he does let into his circle. And I'm afraid he has let in a Trojan horse." He took a sip from his coffee. "Poor man should have read Virgil. Anyway, through the defector's information, I can confirm that Teru Mikami does indeed work for Kira."

"And none of this was something you might have considered telling us?" Mello asked, noticing Aizawa's rolling eyes. Obviously L's withholding of information was to be expected.

"You know now. I wouldn't be surprised if you were all questioning my interests with this case. I can tell you now that the United Nations, though fractured and officially defunct, are apparently still expecting me to provide them with an opportunity to take control from Kira. For some reason they expect me to shoulder a percentage of the cost, which is unfortunate and frankly, they can whistle for it, but, if you were wondering, our aim is still the same as it was before."

"So you were... what? You're not interested unless someone pays you?"

"No, but it's always nice when they do," L replied. He held his coffee cup out towards Mello, the now understood request to put more sugar in it for him. The cup was duly snatched from his hand. "So," he continued, "the informant essentially couldn't get near Kira. In fact, he's never seen him. Some employees now doubt his existence, except for a man who would tell anyone who would listen that he was Kira's personal physician and a permanent fixture. You can imagine the assumptions which have been made based on this fact, but let's not get bogged down with it. I arranged for the man I deduced to be the doctor to be apprehended last night, but he chose to take his life instead. Dead end there then, literally. And so we revert back to square one. Kira obviously has some brainwashed security who have all had one steroid too many. Everyone in the building wears name badges, which makes it sound like a friendly branch of Walmart. Unfortunately, it is so no one can take a step out of line. If they do then they mysteriously disappear. There are a lot of rumours among the workers on the bottom rung of the ladder that there is an office referred to as the Death Room because of the tendency for people to go in there and never come out. I doubt that it's the Bermuda Triangle."

"All very nice but where is Kira?"

"That, I don't know." L breathed out and turned to his computer to gaze at the keyboard. "There is a basement of what is known as the Zenkunen building, and though there are guards 24/7 at two lifts which nobody seems to use, there are contradictory reports that the basement houses servers. There are also rumours that he lives in a penthouse, but in turn, it is also said that it is just storage space. Oh, and there's another rumour that he's in another old government building, the old U.S. embassy, but the security seems quite lax there in comparison with other areas, so I don't believe it. All in all, there are six suspected locations but no sightings. Since I can't validate his location, I'm not charging in," he looked to Mello. "Neither am I going to destroy the entire complex. I apologise for anticipating a suggestion which you may or may not have, but simply because it would involve the loss of life of his considerable staff, it's not going to happen. This is not because I'm particularly kindhearted, but because if the world stands a chance at reforming after Kira, it must not tied to a public relations nightmare. It must be seen as a freeing, not an annihilation."

Mello had been tapping his foot agitatedly throughout L's talk. "But surely we could each go in and -"

"One does not simply walk into Mordor..." Near muttered. He had also lined up some scrabble pieces to spell out 'Mordor' for some reason.

Mello waved a dismissive hand towards him. "Ignore him. He'll be writing 'Red Rum' on the walls next."

"I hope that he doesn't," L said. "Still, while we're not in Middle Earth to dispose of some jewellery, Near has a point. The chances of anyone managing to infiltrate any of the buildings is next to zero, so let's just discard that thrilling idea."

"What about Mikami? We should target him!"

"Oh, Mikami. Yes. He leaves the buildings by all accounts but he doesn't go to his apartment, even though he's still paying the rent. He's also good looking, which is annoying, but beside the point. I asked my informant to follow him one night but his smidge of bravery had its limits. I tried Mikami's phone again shortly after my conversation with Kira ended, and it is now turned off," he lied. "It is hardly surprising. Kira seems to wish us to believe that he's suddenly died after speaking with me. I'm not really sure how focusing on Mikami would help matters."

"He's the closest person to Kira that we know of," Mello said. "Interrogating him would give us a way to get to Kira."

"You'd like to think that it is a certainty but I doubt it very much. Judging from the drastic way the doctor avoided interrogation, I'm not of the opinion that Mikami would act any differently. Kira has undoubtedly already thought about such an incident and prepped his favourites already. If we got to Mikami before he managed to dispatch himself, the likelihood of him disclosing any information is... well, it's unlikely."

"So since we know diddily squat, what do you suggest we do now?" Mello asked. His frustration was evident in finding that this case was similar to the test cases he'd been given at Wammy's in that there were road-blocks everywhere. He hated that they prevented the obvious solution (which in his mind usually involved firearms and explosives) and forced him to take long-winded countermeasures. He'd always thought that, like algebra, these problems wouldn't crop up in daily life.

L scanned the desk for something. The need being so great that he actually stood to sort through the loose pieces of paper, pens, finger puppets and other miscellanea which cluttered the surface. He resorted to sweeping the lot to a pile on the floor, at which point he found a lollipop and settled back into his seat.

"Matsuda-san, could you take me to Mrs Yagami's house please?" he asked. It was a rather unexpected request, all things considered.

"What has this got to do with anything? The widow of the bloke who was killed by Kira?" Mello said, his face having gone an unusual shade of puce.

"Do you have any respect at all?" Matsuda asked him.

"No, Matsuda-san, he doesn't. She lost both her husband and son to Kira, Mello."

"Again, what's that got to do with this? Losing loved ones to Kira is not uncommon nowadays." For Mello, and probably Near as well, this seemed like yet another unrelated act of L's which had very little to do with the investigation. Ordinarily they wouldn't have questioned it, but Mello was on a knife edge of confusion and anger.

"I've put off apologising to her in person," L explained, annoyed that he had to explain himself. "I want to reassure her that she'll continue to be cared for financially."

"Oh. How nice and sweet and fucking stupid. Are we care workers now? Is this extremely pressing? I think not."

"I want you to come too. Aizawa and Near can stay here. I want you to see other losses. I want you to see that there is more to this than just your feelings."

"I think Mrs Yagami would like us to put Kira six feet under, thank you very much. I don't need to see her to know that."

"Even so, I want you to come along with me. Matsuda, will you drive us, please?"

"Hold on, what about Kira?" Mello said as Matsuda obediently went to find the car keys. "You were in there for an hour while you were talking to him on the phone. Tell us what's going on."

"I might do after I've seen Mrs Yagami and if you prove yourself to be able to listen calmly. I'll have my coffee to my room and we'll leave in ten minutes."

Matsuda and Aizawa looked at each other. Aizawa had threatened to leave the Task Force several times. In fact he had for a while. L thought that he'd only returned to see that something would actually be done. Only he, Aizawa and Matsuda knew who Kira was, and while he was sure that they understood why L was trying to avoid doing the obvious, Aizawa was the first to suggest that there was no other option now but to hope that one day he might do the right thing. Nevertheless, Aizawa thought that Mrs Yagami should be left alone.

"You should phone her first to make sure that she wants to see you," he said.

Mello latched onto this. "Yes! And what if she's not in? What if she's gone ten pin bowling?"

"She'll be there and she'll see me," L assured them. "There is a reason for this. It's something that will help you understand."

"I need a lot of understanding right now."

"I do too," Near said. He looked towards L's empty room. Aizawa would leave after L, he was sure of it. And then he'd be alone there. Normally he would side with L through anything, but his secretiveness seemed increasingly unprofessional. Though Near hadn't lost faith entirely, it had been severely dented.

"After this I'll tell you everything you need to know," L stated. "To understand, you need to see first."

* * *

As a girl Sayu used to put clear tape over stamps when writing to her pen friends so they could reuse them. This was as rebellious as she got. L could see nothing of Light in her.

Her eyes were still wide with grief and the pain of not knowing why this had happened to her. L being there was just another a horrible reminder. The rest of the time she and her mother could pretend that Light and her father were still working with L and that's why they were never home. It was a mutual delusion they preferred over reality, but it was hard to do when L was right in front of them. Sayu stood behind her mother, as if always prepared to scoop her up and protect her from what else life had to throw at them. Her arms were crossed. She had a bit of his stubbornness after all, L thought. But she blamed him, and she was right to.

"So? Why are you here?" she asked.

"Sayu," her mother chastised. She sat on a chair opposite L, nervous and thin. "We couldn't see Light," she said, like that was an excuse for her daughter's rudeness. "They said because of his injuries it was for the best that we didn't. Then Soichiro and Light were cremated, but I wasn't asked. Don't you think they should have asked first? They took over the whole thing." When L offered her nothing but a blank expression, she looked to Matsuda, who stood by the doorway as an unwilling witness. "Don't you think so, Touta?"

Matsuda looked at his feet.

"Light would have wanted to spare you the heartache of arranging a funeral," L said. "It was my decision. I'm sorry."

"You did it?"

"I thought that you would wish to remember him as he was. All people in my employ sign a declaration regarding this and other issues. It's generally dealt with very quickly to avoid undue attention."

Sayu slammed her hand heavily on the back of her mother's chair. "Your way of dealing with it has attracted attention because it's so abnormal. It doesn't even seem like we care. That's what people think. My aunt won't even talk to us, so thanks for dealing with it."

"I'm sorry. It's very difficult in this situation but it was Light's request that it would go ahead as soon as possible, for your sake."

Sayu scornfully turned away, disbelieving, rubbing the wool on the arms of her jumper in earnest. Her mother seems to want to believe it

"Yes. He was very considerate," she said. "That sounds like Light. Doesn't that sound like Light, Sayu?" She turned to her daughter with a bitter smile as Sayu put a hand on her mother's shoulder in answer.

"He was treated with the greatest respect," L assured them. Mrs Yagami nodded in understanding while Sayu eyed him cautiously.

"I was prepared for my husband. It's hard, but I never thought I'd lose my son too," she said, before swiftly collapsing into silent tears, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. Sayu walked around the chair to comfort her while L stared at the weeping woman like it was an intermission. Mello couldn't stand it any longer. He stood up suddenly, walking behind L to look at the photos on the wall. "Forgive me," Mrs Yagami whispered, wiping away tears and trying to smile through it, though her face was painted with red blotches of upset. "He was so young."

L sat, apparently unmoved but had clearly been well tutored in how to speak to grieving mothers. "Please don't apologise. It is I who should apologise. It is a great loss for you and... may I say that I feel his loss very deeply. I feel responsible for what happened. It shouldn't have happened."

Mello looked back at L, trying to take in his words that sounded so heartfelt and alien to him. Mrs Yagami bowed and excused herself to make some more tea, or, more likely, cry in the privacy of her kitchen. After she left, there was an awkward silence while everyone awaited her return. Mello felt that life in this house must be like a never-ending wake. How many other houses hid secret agonies like this one? Turning back at the photographs, he tried to distance himself from the almost tangible sadness in the room and how useless and unwelcome he felt within it. He was nothing to do with this family's tragedy. He didn't understand why L had insisted upon him being there.

His eyes moved to a shrine in the far corner which had two photographs on a shelf above it. One was of a middle-aged man who probably looked older than he was because of his weathered brow and the streaks of grey running through at his temples. The other photograph was of the boy Mello had seen with L that night he visited him at his old HQ, the boy who Mello had despised while barely exchanging a word with him. And now he was dead. It was hard to believe it was the same person, or that the boy in the photograph, with his insipid smile, was even capable of the fuss he'd made the one and only time that Mello had seen him.

"Did you know them?" asked Sayu, who was now standing next to him and also staring at the photographs like they were in an art gallery.

"No. No, not really. I met your brother once, but very briefly. I'm sorry," he replied. He didn't know whether he was apologising for their deaths or because he hadn't known them. He felt heat rush to his face with the painful awkwardness of the situation.

"Light was a law student," Sayu explained, proudly. "He was wonderful. I wish you could have known him better."

"He was very well-respected. I'm told that he was quite brilliant and did great work on this investigation. It's amazing for someone so young," Mello threw in, trying to think of the most consoling things he could think of and that, basically, her brother was the second coming. He could hardly say that he thought her brother was a complete tit. When he mentioned the investigation he saw the smile on Sayu's face disappear.

"Of course, I never saw him really for the last year of his life," she said. "He was so dedicated to catching Kira and Astraea. I think he needed to catch them for some reason, even more so than my dad. It was always on his mind. He seemed to take the whole world on his shoulders when it came to this case. It's not right, is it? I mean, he was just a boy and he was just taken advantage of. But then, he was with him."

Without her even turning to L, Mello knew who she meant. He wanted to defend him, and yet he understood her anger because he blamed L too. He couldn't hate him, but he would always blame him.

"I'm so sorry," he offered, weakly. It was so difficult to know what to say, not least because the only memory he had of her brother was of him half-naked and shouting at him to get out.

"Thanks. So, have you taken his place now?"

"What? I mean, pardon?"

"Have you taken my brother's place? You must be working on the Kira case now, since you're with _him_," she asked. Again, perhaps not able to say 'L'. Mello didn't quite understand why all her anger was directed at L and none at Kira. After all, Kira was the person who killed Light Yagami, even if L was the one who had put him in the firing line.

"I'm working with L, yes," he said. "Though I don't think anyone could take your brother's place on the investigation team from what I understand. I'm not working in that capacity."

"That 'capacity'?" she repeated. "No, I guess not. My name is Sayu Yagami, by the way."

"Mello."

"Your name is Mello?"

"Yeah." He wanted to apologise again. He should have said 'John'. Something serious, respectful and maudlin. And he probably shouldn't have worn a coat with a fur collar.

"Nice name. So, if you didn't know my father or my brother really, why are you here?"

"Er -"

"Because this whole meeting is very dangerous," she interrupted. "Dangerous for us. If Kira found out, we'd be killed."

"I... Kira... um. Kira killed two people very close to me too. I suppose I just wanted to offer my condolences to you because, not that I understand how you feel, but I-"

"You understand better than most," she smiled. "Who did he kill?"

Mello quite liked her bluntness. Often people skirted around the issue but she obviously took pain head-on and expected others to do the same. "My mother and my, er, friend," he answered. He didn't want to make this into a 'my loss is greater than yours' competition, nor did he want her overwhelming sympathy of having lost his entire life within a few hours.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so rude too. I guess I'm frightened. And angry. Kira killed my family, not just Dad and Light. He killed all of us. And I have no time for L and his 'investigation.' If it wasn't for him then they'd still be alive. But then, Dad and Light believed in him. They thought he'd defeat Kira. I'm angry at him because, well, you expect this from Kira; killing is what he does. But L has betrayed my family." Mello turned to look at L, wondering if he could hear them. As he turned back he was caught like a deer in the headlights as Sayu stared into his eyes. "I don't care if he hears me," she said. "I don't care as long as he kills Kira. I'm sorry because you're too young for this, just like my brother was, but I don't care. I just want this to be over and if you can help do that then it doesn't matter how old you are." She turned back to the photo of her brother. "The only reason I let you in the house is because, whatever I think of the man sitting over there, he's the only one who can end this. Light thought so and so did my dad." She smiled at the photographs. "I never believed in the death penalty before all this. To be honest, I never gave it much thought at all. But there's one person in the world I want dead, and that's Kira. Until that happens, nothing will change. We can't move on, and Kira is destroying everything. You must understand. You must feel the same way?"

Mello nodded unconsciously. Part of him wished that Sayu had spoken to L months ago. Maybe she had, but he didn't think so. If she'd said these things to L then, he might have realised that being contracted and paid to get rid of Kira was unimportant compared to doing what was right. He had tried to say these things to L himself before now, but the words stuck in his throat. It was much easier to simmer and flare up occasionally than to open your heart to someone.

"Here we are," Mrs Yagami said, cheerfully returning with a tea-tray which she placed on the table in front of L.

"Let me help," Sayu offered. Her voice was suddenly lighter and caring.

"Oh no, sweetheart, I'm fine. Mr L? Hah, I'm sorry, I don't quite know what to call you. How do you like your tea?"

L looked at the tray and noticed there was no sugar bowl. "I'm sorry, Mrs Yagami but we should go," he sighed. "I'm afraid we've trespassed too long on your time and hospitality as it is. If I could just leave this with you to read at your leisure? Again, I'm sorry for your loss," he added as he stood up. He set a large brown envelope on the table and bowed deeply.

"More money?" Sayu asked, sarcastically, looking between L and the envelope.

"Sayu! Don't make me ashamed of you. Thank you, Mr L, and please stay. Touta, you'll stay, won't you? Tell Mr L and his friend to stay."

"Matsuda-san will stay. It would be awful to waste this tea you've prepared. But my colleague and I must leave now."

"You will visit again though, won't you? Soichiro thought so highly of you and we see so few of Light's friends now. They're all at university and too busy. Can't expect them to visit really. I'm sure this isn't the most exciting place. It would be so nice to just talk about Light and his father for a while with someone who knew them. All we have is each other you see." She looked briefly at Sayu.

L bowed again and Mrs Yagami began to walk him to the door. As Mello went to follow, he turned to say goodbye to Sayu when she grabbed him by the arm.

"Please catch him. Catch Kira. We need justice and so do they," she whispered.

Mello looked into her eyes, seeing what he felt, magnified, and driving her mad.

* * *

L took the unusual step of saying that he and Mello would take the train back from the Yagami house. Mello thought this very unwise, as did Matsuda, but as always, L won out. They had managed to find a carriage which was almost empty. L stared at the solitary passenger in there, a school girl, until she was so unnerved that she practically ran into another carriage. Then they were alone.

"We don't have much time so if you have any questions you should ask them now. I might not be able to answer later," L said.

"Ok. What the fuck was all that about?"

"You saw the photographs at the Yagami house and I trust that you recognised one of the dead men."

"Yes," Mello answered. He tried to steady himself against the movement of the train by gripping the seat until his knuckles turned white.

L stayed as infuriatingly still as always. He was vague and dreamlike in his manner as if nothing was important, begrudgingly bestowing information like it was from an out of date newspaper. "What did you think when you saw the photograph? When you heard how his mother and sister despise me?"

"His mother doesn't blame you. She can't blame anyone. She's more accepting of their deaths than her daughter."

"Perhaps. But her daughter hates me. You heard her. She blames me as much as Kira for their deaths. The only reason she allowed me in that house was for her mother's sake and because she believes that I am her best chance of defeating Kira, who she hates only slightly more than she does me."

"She's angry. It's hard to see past that when you're in that state."

"No, she's right to hate me. It is my fault, Mello. The same way that it is my fault that V and Matt died. You know. You blame me."

"I did. But you didn't kill them, L. You're not a superhero and maybe that's why I blamed you because once I believed that you were. But I always believed that you could stop Kira, and you still can."

L sighed. "For an apparently intelligent individual you can be incredibly deluded at times."

"Ok, you're a bastard," Mello shot back. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"I need neither your insults nor your praise at this moment in time. Now, Matt and V. They didn't tell you anything about where they went or who they saw, did they? Did they tell you that they met Kira?"

"I..."

"It's alright, Mello, I know that you were in the middle. V was part of Astraea and she was in talks with Kira to arrange a coalition of interests. V had you in hiding, didn't she? She wouldn't let you leave the house and neither would Matt. You must have been given a reason why or did you simply accept it like a baby?"

Mello pushed his hair back from his face. "They said that it was to keep me safe," he answered quietly.

"Yes, yes, of course it was to keep you safe, that goes without saying. And you were so amazed to have your mother in your life that rather than argue, you did whatever she said. But V took Matt with her on several occasions. Do you know why?"

"They met Kira. At least once," He felt oddly guilty that he was giving away secrets, even if they did belong to dead people.

"Yes. Mello, before V contacted you, she had faked her own death in such a way that I believed her to be dead. I believed her to be dead until practically the moment Kira killed her. I'm not offering this as an excuse for not preventing her death because in fact I still could have stopped it from happening. In any case, that's irrelevant at the moment since I'm simply relaying facts."

Mello stood abruptly and grabbed a handrail when caught off-balance by the jolting motion of the train. "What do you mean you could have stopped it from happening?" he shouted. "How is that irrelevant? How dare you tell me that it's irrelevant?"

"Just add it to the reasons to hate me. Now sit down or you'll fall over," L ordered. "I presume that V was aware and in all probability encouraged you to contact me. That was because she did not trust Kira which, despite her idiocy in most other matters, shows that she was at least a good judge of character. So she wanted you to have some options; somewhere to go that was safe if something happened to her. But that night you came to my HQ, V did not authorise that, did she?"

"No. She thought Kira had access to CCTV or something. She had Matt delete all public footage when they found out that I'd gone to see you."

"That was simply to erase your path home. She didn't want Kira to be able to trace you back to where you lived."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Because Kira was watching your HQ and tracking who went in and out of the building," Mello agreed, finally taking a seat again. "What's this about, L? What did you talk about on the phone this morning?"

"Nothing. I tried to bargain with him and it didn't work out well."

"Why would you bargain with him?"

"Because, Mello, it might have passed you by but we're living in a despotic world. Granted, this is never a good thing but history tells us that when a tyrant is disposed, everything falls to chaos. On a worldwide scale that is not a pleasant thought. He has influence you cannot imagine and, in theory, if you could reason with him, things could end more peaceably."

"A truce is not good enough. And God knows why you thought you could reason with him."

"I wasn't aiming for a truce."

"What were you aiming for then? Whatever. At least we know where he's based."

"Or, more accurately, we _knew_ where he was based. I'm not sure if he'll stay there waiting for me to turn up with a machine gun, so we had best forget about that line of enquiry."

"L, I don't mean to be a downer here but it seems like you're forgetting about a lot of lines of enquiry."

L's unflinching and passive despondency just seemed to rally when called out. "True," he said. "I think I might have exhausted everything I had left. But it doesn't matter. So -"

"Hold on, it doesn't matter?"

"Sorry, wrong wording. As I was saying, when you visited me, you met Light Yagami. Well, met is rather a strong term for it. Light was working with me on the Kira investigation along with his father. I'm sure you had your own ideas in regards to our relationship based on the situation and his infamous gentility."

"L, you don't have to -"

"No, I do. Well, your assumptions would be correct, although it was infinitely more complicated. Light Yagami was not brought onto the case in a standard way. I had arrested him nearly a year before based on suspicions of him being Kira. He was extremely intelligent and there were other factors which led me to suspect that he was Kira. I had him placed in a cell under 24 hour observation for a month, but ultimately I could not prove his guilt. In fact I had no proof whatsoever, not even circumstantial evidence. In the end, what people thought of as my obsession put such a strain on the investigation as a whole that I was forced to concede that he was not Kira. He in turn became obsessed with the idea of catching Kira to prove his innocence, knowing that I still did not truly believe him. So he worked with me on the case and stayed with me at all times from then on. He only visited his family once during that period, and that's the reason that his family hate me. That is, along with his dying, of course. Light and I developed some kind of relationship which was neither healthy nor appropriate, but I did love him, and I believe that he loved me also, which is why he stayed with me. That was the point where we both made our mistakes. What started out as a tactic of mine became a train with no brakes. If he had left when he had the opportunity then we may not be in this situation today. I could have acted as I should have and -"

Mello touched L briefly on the arm to stop him. L flinched, which made Mello feel even worse. He wasn't particularly touchy-feely, but hearing L flog himself over what was probably the one mistake he'd made in his entire life was hard to hear. The only people L would come into contact with would be law enforcers and criminals, so in a way it wasn't surprising that he'd fallen for someone unsuitable and that their relationship didn't include spinning with joy on Austrian hilltops. Mello had always thought of L as a victim of Wammy's as much as any of them had been, despite trying to think otherwise. What worried him was the thought that L had made Light a suspect by creating a theory just to have him near him. Disregarding the immorality of that, he had also distracted himself from the real Kira, who was presumably sitting in a business chair and stroking a white cat the entire time. But L couldn't have been in his right mind. He wouldn't have done such a thing if he had thought that it would lead to more deaths, including Light's.

"I'm sorry, L," he said.

"I know. Because Light Yagami is dead and there's nothing I can do to help him now."

"You can't blame yourself, L. He's in a better place."

"Pffff..." L snorted. "Yes. He certainly is."

"Look, I've been fixated on things and have turned out to be wrong. It must be harder for you because you're not used to being wrong. I'm not happy about it because obviously you were so very wrong, but I'm sorry for you, and I understand."

"I don't deserve your kindness and pity, Mello, but I'm glad that you are capable of such a thing. I never was. The problem with kindness, allowances and understanding is that it often leads to blindness to the facts and ultimately, disaster. You think that I took you to the Yagami house as moral support in some attempt to absolve myself, don't you?"

"L, I get it. I get that you feel guilty and to be honest, if I was you, I'd probably be trying to find a suitable cliff to throw myself from right now. But you really need to get past this for the sake of the investigation and deal with all the emotional shit later. You need to be L. Stop caring about who hates you and why."

"Even you?" L asked, turning to face Mello for the first time in a long time. Mello was struck by how dark his eyes were, particularly when surrounded by the bright and sterile interior of the train.

"Even me," he said. "The most important thing right now is to stop Kira. So, tell me what you talked about on the phone and what we're going to do because that's all I care about. I'm sorry but I only have so much time for this kind of thing and I think I've offered you my shoulder for long enough. You can't just turn into a gibbering wreck, not when all this is going on. Try to focus on defeating Kira and getting justice for Light."

"You don't understand," L whispered.

"Understand what? I don't know your history and I don't care. You have a chance to end it. So yeah, you fucked up. Now fix it."

"Well thank you for that rousing speech. And how do you suggest that I 'fix' everything?"

Mello considered him for a moment and said the first thing which came into his head. "L, you want to catch Kira, don't you?"

"If things were so simple, we wouldn't be here now," he answered.

"What do you mean?" Mello asked, rapidly becoming infuriated with L's evasiveness. He felt his heart begin to race as his temper flared up. It had been a long time since he was just his normal self. He could barely remember what that was anymore as it seemed to him that his worst qualities were all he was now. He was either possessed with the anger which encapsulated his sadness and frustration, or exhausted in the wake of it. "Why can you never give me a straight answer? Don't I deserve one?"

"I would if I could, Mello. I thought that was why we are here; so you can find out the answers to all your questions. I thought your goal in life was to find Kira so you can make a trophy out of his head," he said.

"Me? You make it sound like you don't you want to know who Kira is."

"It matters more to you than it does to me."

"So why are you doing this then? I mean, you're doing nothing. You obviously don't want to catch Kira. Do you agree with him or something?"

"No, Mello. I don't agree with him."

"Then why won't you help us? I feel like you're holding us back."

L turned his face slightly, as if to hear Mello more clearly. "I'm sorry. It's been a long case and I'm tired. Maybe I am holding you back."

"What use is that? Do you need a bloody holiday or something because you've chosen the worst time to have a breakdown." He heard L breathe out a bitter laugh which was probably the only reply he could expect. L's hand held a fistful of the loose denim of his jeans, the only sign that L was finding this conversation as trying as he did. Mello felt his anger calm enough that, instead of a slightly blurry view of the world, he could see everything in minute detail, down to the stains on the train seats and the weave of L's shirt. "Tell me that you don't know who Kira is," he said. He wasn't even sure why he'd asked.

"Kira is just Kira now. That is his identity," L replied. The speed of the reply seemed rehearsed, like he had prepared for this very question.

"Jesus Christ, L! That's not an answer!"

When L next spoke it was with that eerie flatness which isolated everyone he met. "I mean what I say. If I could tell you then I would. But he's beaten me, Mello."

"No he hasn't! I don't understand this. I mean, you don't discuss anything with us and then you take us on a whistle-stop tour of 'Kira ruined my life!' What's this about?"

"I didn't know that you doubted everything I say. Like I told you before, I took you there to see that there's more grief in the world than yours. You're driven purely by your own vendetta, just like your mother, and it will burn you out, Mello. It's not about revenge. Do you think that if you kill Kira then everything will be alright again? Because it won't. Matt and V will still be dead and you'll still be alone and angry. You'll end up being another car crash in life. I want you to consider what you're doing and realise that vengeance is a pointless concept."

"Sayu Yagami would kill Kira if she had the chance."

"No, the girl is all fighting words. Faced with Kira she couldn't kill him anymore than she could kill any random person plucked out the crowd. I thought you might see that but obviously you just saw a kindred soul full of the same righteous indignation that their little world has been torn apart."

"So what, am I supposed to find Kira and shake his hand? 'Thank you for destroying my life in a night, Kira, but it's ok because I've taken up transcendental meditation recently. Let's have a coffee and talk about kittens.'"

"Of course not," L said. "You're entitled to your anger, but it's driven by grief. Kira has killed himself by doing what he's done and he'll pay, there's no getting around that now. But Kira is vengeance. Selfish vengeance. You're just two people who have thrown their toys out of their cot because they feel injured. Kira is angry at the world as he saw it and you're angry at him"

Mello's eyes narrowed. "I'm nothing like Kira."

"No, you're the same. Same motivation, different scale of destruction."

* * *

Once Mello and L returned, they both went to their respective rooms, each bringing with them a much needed feeling of despondency which was becoming an ever present fixture in the adapted hotel suite. Aizawa had left earlier, wagging a finger at Near while demanding that he phone him if L was ready to discuss Kira. In truth, Near didn't hold out much hope. He watched L and Mello come back and immediately seclude themselves without a word being spoken. Then he resumed bopping a pretzel up and down on the desk. After a few minutes of staring intently at the pretzel, he stood and walked into Mello's room, shutting the door behind him.

"Goodbye, Near," Mello said as soon as Near stepped across the threshold.

"What happened?" Near persisted, standing in the middle of the room.

Mello sighed and sat up on the bed to remove his boots. "Oh, nothing really," he said. "Sob stories. I'm tired of sob stories."

"Did L tell you anything?"

"Nope. He's just 'woe is me' instead of 'woah is me', which is kinda what we need right now."

Near finally walked over and sat on the bed wearing his concerned face, which looked much like his normal face. Mello saw it and laughed. "What did he say, Mello?"

"Jesus! Why don't you talk to him?"

"He's in his room. I don't think he'd talk to me anyway."

"Oh. I wonder why?"

"Because you're the emotional one and I'm logical, so obviously he'll find it easier to talk to you."

"That and you don't understand the concept of sarcasm. When did we become L's parents anyway?"

"Mello, I don't want to be your punchbag anymore. Just answer a simple question."

"Argh! All he said was that Light Yagami was his boyfriend, which we knew. That bloke I was in the same room with that night I went to see L. Remember? I told you. The stroppy one. Oh, and he wasn't a detective, he was L's bloody suspect! That was it really."

"Suspect? Are you sure?"

"I didn't misunderstand, Near. L told me. He was convinced that Light Yagami was Kira and had him, in all senses of the word. But then he got himself killed, which kinda squished L's suspicions, love life, everything. I'm fine with all that, it's just that L's going through a 'I don't know who I am anymore!' thing. I tried to get through to him but he's like a brick wall. It'll pass, but it better pass soon, otherwise this will turn into the Hindenburg disaster. I don't know. I just think that he doesn't really want to stop Kira anymore."

"Why do you think that?"

"You know L. So yeah, I've had a wonderful afternoon. Maybe he'll mope for a bit and then be all full of beans like Basil the Mouse Detective."

"So he told you that Light Yagami was with him even though he was suspected of being Kira?"

"That's what I said. Love hurts. It's a many splendoured thing. It crosses all boundaries. All that. Now there's nothing else to say, so if you don't mind," he said, making a shooing action towards the door.

"No, listen to me. I think I know who Kira is."

"Uh huh."

"I do! L was trying to tell you but this is where he should have told me instead because you're not good with that sort of thing."

"Excuse me?"

"Hints. Clues. He's practically told you and it explains everything. Light Yagami is not dead, he _is_ Kira, and L was right. It all makes sense. You can see it, can't you?"

"What are you talking about? Light Yagami can't be Kira because he's dead. You can leave if you're going to have an episode. Actually, leave anyway."

"I've suspected that something wasn't right between L and Kira for a long time. L's procrastination and general failure points to something irrational, not that he's been beaten by a greater mind. L knows where Kira is. He wasn't pleased that you found that information about Mikami's phone, was he? He took the information and only acted when we put pressure on him. Even then he wanted me to make contact on his behalf and Kira _knew_ that I wasn't L."

Mello smiled. "That's because you're a shit fake L. We've been over this, Near. You have to get over it."

"That's not it. He couldn't have known if he hadn't had contact with L in the past."

"Maybe he had. What of it?"

"Then why hasn't he told us that? Why isn't it in the files? Where is all the information about Light Yagami being in custody and L's suspicions? I think L has written them for our benefit while hiding the real case files."

"It was debunked when he died!" Mello said, a little too loudly. He caught himself and added quietly, "Now's not the time, ok? Can this wait until tomorrow because I'm knackered and L could be outside listening for all we know."

"He's in his room and this can't wait. Yagami didn't die. He got away from L, joined Astraea, and they took him in with open arms."

"You're saying that L let him walk out? I think you need to lie down. Not here though," he said, pulling his socks off and throwing them to different corners of the room. "L is not the enemy here."

"No, but he can't act because of some stupid infatuation, so he's simultaneously protecting him and trying to expose him to us because he knows this can't go on. When he spoke to Kira on the phone, he told me to go. Why would he do that if he had nothing to hide? Wouldn't it be beneficial to have a witness overhear a conversation like that?"

"Not necessarily."

"Why are you trying to excuse him?" Near asked, sitting down on the bed.

"I'm not! I'm just hearing this and thinking that you're mad. Yagami is dead and you can't get past that."

"Believe that if it makes you happy, Mello."

"None of this makes me happy. You're in my room and you're deranged."

"You're just terrified that if I'm right then it would make you wrong and an idiot. You don't want to believe that L would harbour Kira and that he's partly responsible for everyone you've lost. That's your problem. You're hiding from the truth when it's staring you in the face."

"You're the idiot! You're not L, you're just a clueless underling. I know what you're doing. Look, just ask him flat-out then. Do that. If what you say is true then L should just validate it, right? Do that then, because I would love to see you get slapped down and thrown out of this place. I'll pack your bags."

"If L could just tell us then he would have done it already. He's leaving it to us to finish it."

"And why the fuck would he do that? Jesus, Near. Get a grip."

"He can't do it because he loves him. He can't kill him and if he told us everything then he might as well just go and shoot him. That's why he's giving you clues. He's giving you the clues, Mello. He wants you to do this."

"What do you know about how people act? What you're saying is bollocks. Big Clint Eastwood-sized bollocks. And they smell."

"It's how I would act."

"Again, how do you know how you would act if you were in love with a raving mad murderer with political aspirations? Because that's what you're saying. You're saying that L is in love with a fucking lunatic, which makes him a fucking lunatic. And that, what? He wants to protect him but he's dropping clues to me so I can kill him instead?"

"Ok, what would you do? You're the emotional one. Obviously I don't know about anything,"

"I'm not even going to entertain this anymore. I can't imagine being in love with a souped-up Stalin Mark II, and I can't imagine L doing that. So well done on your master detective work, Sherlock Shite. You're looking for something that doesn't exist."

"I told you, he's not dead. Tell me exactly what happened at the Yagami house."

"God, Near. Well, shock horror, Yagami and the father are dead, that's obvious. The mother and sister were angry that L had taken over the funeral but that's normal, you know how it works here. There's nothing strange about the rushed cremation and funeral. Then L just asked me some things and said how guilty he felt about everything."

"You mean Matt?"

"Not exactly. It was more guilt-tripping about his dead boyfriend, not mine. He kept saying that I blame him so I presume he meant that I blame him for Matt and... stuff."

"What stuff?"

"This is nothing to do with what you're thinking up. It's a complicated story and, it has nothing to do with you at all."

"I can do complicated."

"No. You'll twist things and you won't understand it."

"Please tell me, Mello. I need to know from you."

Mello considered it. It might be nice to confide in someone. He could hardly talk to L since he wasn't the easiest person to talk to at the best of times and there were too many unresolved issues which made it impossible. But when he looked at Near, all he saw were questions, not concern. "There's nothing to say," he said. Near continued to look at Mello with the same expression which gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. Mello was beginning to prefer interrogation. After a few endlessly long moments, Near stood, walked outside, and returned with a thick folder which he then dropped on the bed. Mello looked at him questioningly.

"Read it," Near demanded.

"What is it?"

"I found it in L's room when you were out. I'd already checked his computer but then I realised he would never keep this kind of thing there."

"You broke into L's room? You found this in L's room?"

"I told you that I had suspicions. You should read it." 'Still waters run deep' was a phrase which might as well have been written just to describe Near, but on this occasion his thoughts and emotions were clearly on the surface. He didn't like what he'd found.

Mello picked up the folder and opened it to the first page. "Oh God," he said, closing it again. "Just tell me."

"Light Yagami is Kira."

Mello sighed and ran a hand through his hair as all the pleasant uncertainty went out the window. It wasn't a shock so much as it was a full stop on the end of a sentence. He opened the folder again. His initial feeling was that of sadness, and it surprised him. "He had this all this time," he said, softly.

"Obviously. That's a photocopy of the whole thing, by the way, so take your time. I put the original back where I found it."

"Maybe this is an old account. A biased one from the time that Yagami was alive," Mello said, desperately.

"The last update includes his conversation with Kira this morning. Oh, and Yagami killed Watari."

"L _let_ him kill Watari?"

"Practically."

Mello looked up at him with the eyes of a child. "He'd never let that happen."

"Just read it," Near said again. He watched Mello start with the summary of events at the beginning of the file and watched his eyes widen with every paragraph. "I'm sorry that you don't trust me, Mello," he said after a few minutes, still standing redundantly in front of him. "I mean about your mother and Matt. You could have told me yourself instead of having to find out through this file."

"Why should I have told you? I'm pissed off that you know now. No. I can't read any more. I have to get out of here."

"You can't, Mello. Stop."

Mello stood up holding the folder open in one hand while he strode agitatedly around the room. "I can't stay in this place with him. I knew it, I just couldn't believe he'd lie to me. He _is_ a liar, just like my mother said he was. And Matt knew! He's lied to us all this time. He's sat there for months telling me how sorry he was about Matt and I thought he bloody understood because Kira had killed his boyfriend. But no! Kira _was_ his boyfriend. Jesus Christ."

"Calm down, L might hear!"

"Don't bother. He's gone into hibernation mode again, the spineless twat. And he made me sit in a room with Kira's family having to listen to him telling them how sorry he was, knowing that he's told them a pack of lies. Preaching to me about vengeance and how Kira and I are the same when that woman's 'dead' son is probably getting himself a nice tan in a spa right now! They don't have a clue about who Light Yagami was. L did that."

"You're missing the point. We've all missed the point." Near half-collapsed on the floor into a seated position.

Mello stopped and glared at him. "Oh great. Now you're going catatonic on me too. Brilliant. Well anyway, I'm off." He grabbed a bag from under his bed and an arm-full of clothes to stuff into it.

"Mello-"

"Tell him that I'm thrilled that he found love with a murderer. You know, I'm even angry that you were right. You're so predictable, Near. Absolutely no allegiance, but then I'm glad that you're that way. I mean, how long was he planning on stringing everyone along? Doesn't he realise that people are getting killed right now because of him? And he knew the entire time! No. No. He wouldn't do this to me."

"Why is this about you?" Near asked.

"Well, I don't know, he was shagging the man who killed my mother and Matt? The entire fucking time! Nah, you're right. I don't know what my problem is, Near. He might have betrayed me but love is blind and all that shit so what have I got to be angry about," he shrugged mockingly.

"Please sit down."

"Don't tell me to sit down! How dare you tell me to do anything?"

"Why are you angry with me? I didn't do this. Calm down, be quiet, and read the last page about what Kira told him on the phone this morning."

"Oh, does he say how he loves him and does he want to join him for dinner? Please. I'd love to hear this story. This is like Jackanory for the insane." Mello sat on the bed and flipped through the file, scanning a timeline near the front and racing through the words it contained. The brief summary of events was the worst way to discover the truth.

"L offered Yagami a way out," Near said. "The Death Note can be destroyed, but Yagami said that he cannot give the Death Note up because he'll be killed if he does."

"Who by? Who cares? I'll kill him anyway."

"It might be better if you read all of the file. Every Death Note has a god of death. The book in L's possession doesn't that he's aware of, but I believe it when he says that Yagami's does and that it will kill him if he gives up the book. I can only think that L's book's God of Death died beforehand. Or doesn't like him."

"I'm going with option number two. A god of death. This is an eye-opener, eh, Near? Oooh, have you read this bit? Kira drugged L with antipsychotics. What a riot. Listen, do you think L's tripping? Gods of death. He's tripping."

"I don't think so," Near said, apparently having already considered the idea. "The important thing is that we know this. We need to seize this opportunity we have."

"Ha, opportunity. He's had plenty of opportunities and completely ignored them while blithely singing 'What I Did for Love'!"

"I'm trying to understand this myself. I was right. Light Yagami isn't dead, he's Kira. But L's in love with Kira and there are gods of death," Near muttered to himself. Being right was cause for celebration usually. He loved being right and right so often, but he didn't like being right this time.

"See, why couldn't L have shortened the story down like that instead of forcing us to read all this rubbish?" Mello said, flinging the papers back on the bed.

"We need to work out what to do now," Near continued, ignoring Mello's ravings. He didn't need answers from L on why he'd acted this way.

"Well, I don't know about you but I'm going over there right now to chop Kira up into little pieces, then I'm going to come back and do the same thing to him!"

"Good luck, Mello. What kind of coffin would you like for when Kira sends _you_ back in little pieces or should I just put you in a jiffy bag?"

"You-"

"Stop it! Just stop it. You're going to sit down and read all that and not run away or do anything stupid. We're going to work out what to do. But L can't know."


	24. Please Let Me Get What I Want

Oh, London 2012, you leave me in a glass case of emotion. Anyway, here's the end split across two chapters for length but they're still longer than my thesis. Oh well. Lots of internal blah and weird plot exposition in this one, lots of blah and peril in the next one.

It's been fun.

* * *

**Chapter 24 **

**Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want **

_Good times for a change_

_See, the luck I've had_

_Can make a good man_

_Turn bad_

_So please, please, please_

_Let me, let me, let me_

_Let me get what I want_

_This time_

_Haven't had a dream in a long time_

_See, the life I've had_

_Can make a good man bad_

_So for once in my life_

_Let me get what I want_

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

_~ The Smiths_

* * *

Sometimes you find yourself in an innocuous situation, perhaps at three in the morning, eating some carby crap out of a bag, drinking a canned cocktail and reading an article about car restoration even though you don't own a car. It is at that point that you wonder what happened to your life. That, or something like it, was how Light saw out many of his days of late. Sometimes he'd pause in the middle of a self-serving, menial task and think about whether he'd made the right choices, or if it was the Death Note itself that had created him. He couldn't remember much about his life before the Death Note was in his hands, and from that he presumed that there wasn't much worth remembering and didn't push his memory. He looked back on his family fondly. They had been formative, but he'd outgrown them.

Occasionally he would view his life as a dispassionate observer. It was always his life, no one else's, and he was under the impression that his life was more important anyway. He toned down his enjoyment of power and superiority with a kind of martyr mentality, which was always easy to fall back on. He denied the fact that it was not truly in his nature to consider the feelings of others now. At one point he had felt such overpowering empathy that he had to ignore it completely, like flicking a switch. He didn't realise that it was that which had made him cruel.

Something else that he wouldn't acknowledge was that the life he had previously aimed for, shallow though it was and without all the glory, had been irretrievably lost. He had lost it first to curiosity, and then to his concept of justice and the escalating confirmation of his own abilities and worth, though L hadn't helped. The thing with Light was that if there was an obstacle, he made it his mission in life to overcome it. L had thrown hurdle after hurdle in his way, and as Light simply walked around them, it made everything less about justice and morality, and more about winning and losing.

The Death Note had diverted the natural course of his sunshine and no showers life, this could not be denied. He found that he was not in a penthouse sleeping next to a Calvin Klein model from Brazil and he wasn't being envied by everyone that he had ever met and would meet. He didn't have all those silly things that he was brought up to aspire to and for some reason believed that he should have. No, he was on his own. But he had power, and all other things were completely meaningless compared to that. Still, he couldn't hide from the future he had now; the unending isolation because he found something to hate in everyone, and with Ryuk floating around as a constant reminder of his inevitable death. It made him think, just sometimes, what was the point? Had he really given up his life for something so pure that no one, not even L, could understand?

Light had, of course, preempted these feelings months before all of this actually happened. In his eyes he had considered it all and put himself second. Faced with the reality of his decisions and with only himself as a reminder that he was doing the right thing (since L had, indirectly, filled that role very well throughout their time together), sometimes his battle face looked more like a sad pierrot, and he had, not so elegantly, declined. But now his little phone conversation with L had only consolidated his wavering decision of what was right, encased it in concrete, and set him on his way again. His rapid breathing eased into an almost meditative rhythm as he realised that what L or anyone else thought, didn't matter, and the same went for the capitalist definition of success in modern life. He wouldn't give up his Rolex for anyone, but happiness, whatever that was, was something so banal in comparison to what he had. Why he'd set so much store on what L thought, more so in his absence, was ridiculous to him now. L was never a yardstick for righeousness, but he had helped Light see everything clearly. When L spoke, Light's insides tore themselves into pieces at how hypocritical and insanely wrong the detective was.

So instead of moaning like Marlon Brando about the fact that he could have been somebody, Light had made himself somebody. The world was Light's oyster, it really was. He was incapable of making a bad decision and there was no such thing as chance. The Death Note had been made for him.

* * *

Mikami had been pacing outside for what seemed like hours. He couldn't hear much through the thick door of Light's office without drawing attention to by pressing himself against the door with a glass to his ear. All he could hear was a faint mumble, and in his paranoia he thought that Light was keeping his voice deliberately low for reasons unknown. He discounted this quickly. Why would Kira speak to L in hushed tones? As time went on, the sweat was making his shirt transparent and all he could hear was an ultrasound-like noise in his ears. The stress made him sit down, not knowing what he should do for the best. His eyes darted around the room, not really taking in what was around him.

Eventually his eyes settled upon Light's new secretary, a rather forbidding, matronly woman, who peered at people occasionally over her glasses as she typed. Mikami had access to the Death Note. He could stop her typing and her snide glances any time he liked and Kira probably wouldn't even notice that she'd gone. He could do that. Thoughts like that, though he had no intention on acting upon them, managed to calm him down. He looked at all the office workers, performing their insignificant little jobs, with the knowledge that he had a power over them which they couldn't imagine. They were frightened of him because they thought he was close to Kira, little knowing that he was actually only ever forty seconds away from ending their lives if he chose to. He never had, but the thought did occur to him sometimes.

In his pocket, he kept a page of the second Death Note which Kira had left in his keeping for efficiency, or rather, so that Mikami could shoulder the burden of scrawling in names. Officially, the Death Note, when use of it was not authorised, should be kept whole and in a walk-in safe near Kira's office, but Mikami had taken a scrap because he felt safer when he was near it. He had felt that way about Kira once, but now he felt safer when he was away from him. He held the torn page of the Death Note, hidden in his pocket, and wove the thinness of it between his fingers. The paper was always strangely cold, like a pebble was, and felt silk-like and barely there. He wondered what it might be like to kill someone for no reason, and about all the things Kira had said to him. It was something he usually left until he was in bed reliving the days when everything seemed brutal and left him feeling despondent as he fell asleep. When he woke in the morning he always felt renewed somehow. Everything made a little more sense than it had the night before, and he realised; you aren't born Kira, it's something which grows in you. Like a parasite, it fuses with you and makes you more than everyone else.

He heard the door click before it opened and he turned just in time to see a grey suited arm and a white knuckled hand grasp the doorframe near his head. He stood up.

"Mikami, I'm ready to see Professor Ballard now," Light said. He looked a little shocked at Mikami's sudden and close appearance, but as he spoke he was looking back into his office as if he was speaking to someone inside. Mikami bowed quickly in acknowledgement.

"Sir, may I speak with you for a moment?" Mikami asked. Light's normally placid face, unmarred by any real sign of emotion, scowled slightly.

"Is it really necessary?" he replied. He looked as if he was going to say more but wary of the rather public nature of their conversation, he relented, leaving the door open as he walked back inside. Mikami followed him.

"Kira-sama, we should move you to another location."

"I don't think that you're in the position to tell me what I should or shouldn't do," Light said. He smiled as he handed Mikami back his phone, which now appeared broken; it's screen shattered. Mikami said nothing and took it back with a grateful bow.

"Forgive me, but L must know where you are now." He looked around as if he was ready for a SWAT team to crash through the windows at any moment.

"You're worried about L? I'm not. Isn't that strange?" Light walked to a Bauhaus chair behind an equally 'style over substance' coffee table. He picked up a heavy looking book and flicked through it, emphasising what little interest he felt for Mikami's point of view.

"Your security is in jeopardy. It would be -"

"Do you think this is worth it, Mikami?" Light asked, casually. He turned another page.

"Kira-"

"Because I wondered if it was. When I started this I had nothing to lose, I could only improve things. An individual's life is nothing compared to the greater good, but then, maybe there's nothing wrong with being selfish. Perhaps all we have is to act within all this and live our own lives and, I don't know, aim for something less? Some people would say that we can only do what we can but have to accept that ultimately no one person can change everything." He set the book down back on the table and stared at it, sitting there. "And why should they? Why should I?" He looked up at Mikami. Oddly, Mikami didn't feel like he was angling for reassurance. He felt that Kira was testing him.

"The world needs a leader. They need you," he replied automatically. He response was given so quickly that it sounded like he'd thought about this previously and that this was the result he had come up with.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to do?"

"Everyone does, Kira."

"Have you done things that you knew were right, even though everything and everyone told you that you were wrong?"

Mikami thought of cases in which he'd defended people that he and everyone else knew were guilty. He defended them because he believed that everyone had a right to representation - that's what he'd been taught. He always tried his best and sometimes his client walked free because of it, and sometimes reoffended. But Kira was different because he defined right and wrong. What Kira was saying now was going against everything he'd previously taught Mikami and if this was weakness, when bundled up with all his other fallible issues, made it all quite unsettling. He looked at Light as if from different eyes, and what he saw was a run-down looking boy in a grown man's suit.

"Nothing comparable," he said finally, stumbling over his words with confusion. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Nothing. I can't talk to you. I can't, can I, Ryuk?" Light smiled at the dark mass by the desk which Mikami tried to ignore. Mikami remembered his horror when he first saw Ryuk. When Astraea took turns of ownership of the Death Note and he first saw the shinigami for himself he had thought, how can this book be for good when something so horrific comes with it? Since then he had tried to avoid looking at him. Ryuk was at odds with what Mikami hoped the Death Note was.

"I'm sorry that I disappoint you, Kira." Mikami muttered apologetically.

"You don't, Mikami, you don't. I have no expectations of you," he replied with the beginnings of a grin. Mikami felt heat in his face; a combination of shame and anger. "So," Light continued, "is that your concern? That I'm in danger and that I should relocate immediately? Well, how I see it is that I've always been in danger, and whether L knows where I am or not doesn't change matters so drastically that I should run away. What you're suggesting is that I should do just that, and I don't think that that is what Kira should do. Now, as I said, I'd like to meet Professor Ballard."

"I thought that I was bringing Ballard to you, sir?"

"Yes, but that all takes time and there's no need for an intermediary. You've done quite enough yourself with the other scientists. I can deal with this myself. Ballard will tell me what I want to know, and today. Do you know his schedule?"

"I... I believe that he holds lectures until three."

"Fine. I'll find a restaurant somewhere first. That might be nice."

"But Kira, that-"

"Is very daring? Eating is boldness itself, but I'm going. I'm sick of these walls. I've found that sixteen rooms are just as small as one when you're trapped inside them for long enough. Besides, I have you, don't I, Mikami? No one really knows who Kira is and if anything happens, it'll be on your head."

"Yes, Kira-sama."

"Good. Get a car then."

* * *

Light stumbled through the toilet door and bounced off surfaces like a pin ball in a sterile machine. He gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror which was spattered with dried foam and god knows what else. He looked sallow, like a walking kidney infection, and wasn't sure if he was going to throw up or not. He was in that dreadful nauseated purgatory. If he saw someone who looked like him on the street then he would have given him some money and called for an ambulance while keeping a wide berth. He had felt alright before, and it shocked him to see that his actual appearance was that of someone in the early stages of suffering from some tropical disease. His whole bearing was so different that he truly was transfixed by what he saw. Only his clothes gave his status away.

As he evaluated his reflection, the fuzzy, self-absorbed silence in his mind gradually made way for the merged sound of a man and woman's racked breathing, rustling of fabric and dull receptive thuds coming from one of the cubicles behind him. He looked at the offending door in the mirror, everything reversed. He couldn't see the display but from the soundtrack he could see everything in his mind and was disgusted by it. His right was that a sacred, respectful silence should follow him wherever he went. He turned the tap on and splashed some water on his face, replacing the sickly sheen of cold sweat from his skin with the patent quality of water, but it did not improve matters. The porn show continued a few feet away. Perhaps it wasn't what it seemed, he thought. Maybe someone was being murdered in there. Groans and gasps could sound surprisingly similar to the sounds of someone being carved up and throttled.

A toilet flushed and a man came out of the cubicle next to the live show. He sauntered out and glanced at Light in the mirror with a satisfied, conspiratorial grin before he walked out after only wiping his hands down his trousers.

Light caught sight of himself again, looking worse than when he came in after being burdened with thoughts that he could do without. He would look at himself as if he wasn't there, or like he saw something beneath the facade. He felt like that now; hollow but manic. He had to try and become what he was and what he should be in double-quick time.

Ryuk was floating, peering over the cubicle door behind, from which the noises sounded increasingly mechanical. He laughing to himself and occasionally slapping a skeletal palm to his forehead like a child absorbed by curiosity but horrified by a boxing match. Upon seeing the black back of Ryuk, the floating, grotesque reminder of who he was, Light seemed to gain strength. Ryuk was an extension of himself now; he was a man who could not escape from the shadow of his twin. Light straightened his back, his hair, his tie, and assumed his powerful demeanour where nothing could touch him. He turned and left, leaving Ryuk behind him, cackling at what he saw.

* * *

Mikami rose from the table as Light approached, sat and began to look through the menu. Mikami didn't presume to ask him how he was, though it would have been polite. Light looked no better for his visit to the real world and his relaxed manner couldn't hide it. The healthy crowd around him only intensified the set-in, ill appearance of a person who is both mentally and physically fractured. If he wasn't Kira then Mikami would have been embarrassed to sit with him. Maybe Light needed someone to point out his cavalier attitude towards his health, but that someone wasn't Mikami.

Light had picked up the dessert menu by mistake and the array of various cakes on offer seemed to revolt him.

"I'm not as hungry as I thought," he said, placing the menu on his plate. Mikami wondered how he would explain all this to the waiter.

Truthfully, he didn't care if Light ate or not. Something was brewing in him, something too new for him to admit to himself yet, but he was thinking of what would happen if Light was, for whatever reason, unable to act as Kira. The waiter arrived, announcing his presence with an exaggerated French accent and good manners which masked his disdain for everyone he served. Mikami ordered steak and Light asked for water.

"I know that we're restricted with what can be discussed here but I must admit that I'm looking forward to meeting with the professor and making progress," Light said. He watched Mikami tear his bloody steak up with long strokes of a knife. "Speaking of men of science, I wonder what happened to mine? He was due to call today but I'm glad that he didn't. I'm considering a change of lifestyle which doesn't include him."

"I'll deal with it today."

"Yes. No. No, I can deal with it," Light retracted, suddenly suspicious.

"Of course," Mikami acquiesced.

A silence followed which made Light feel nervous. Mikami turned his head to to look at himself in a large mirror which lined one wall at the far end of the restaurant. Light followed his eyes, seeing himself in the reflection, slightly slouching over the table as if it was propping him up. He appeared to be a lesser man to Mikami, who appeared to be happy with what he saw. Their eyes met in the glass before Mikami looked back at his plate. Light turned back to see the small smile on Mikami's face as he forced another lump of steak into his mouth.

* * *

Ballard was an army brat. American by birth, Japanese by upbringing, with a splash of English higher education and a few indulgent summers in the south of France. Somewhere along his drift between those four countries, he had learned all he wanted to know about girls and good wine. He insisted upon being called 'Professor', but unfortunately for him, 'Lardy' was the nickname he was known by. He had a fondness for tea which eclipsed everything else. After growing bored with his study and profession, his had focused all his spare time and energy in his personal search for the perfect blend. So far, he had failed. This had effectively ruined his life.

He was not at all suited to being a teacher - few were. Ballard was someone who loved knowledge but resented passing it on to others. Teaching did, however, pay for his complicated travel obligations and crucifying alimony. He had long given up on the idea of being an inspirational tutor for whom students stood on tables, saluting him with tears in their eyes when he entered a room. It was a sad fact that he did not like people, though it had taken him 52 years and two marriages to realise this. Therefore, during lectures, he ignored the students by bathing them in darkness in the auditorium while he presented slides and pretended that he was hosting a National Geographic documentary about ecology.

Mikami flattered Professor Ballard into meeting with "an interested party" after his lecture finished. Ballard was not the kind of man who asked questions because he liked an element of the unknown in life, something he felt was so rare that he took the opportunity whenever life presented it. This particular mystery was a slender, perfectly turned-out young man in complete odds with the shabby surroundings of the gym. As the professor followed Mikami across the floor, his shoes made embarrassing squelching noises against the highly polished linoleum making him sound like a tribe of mice approaching. When they reached the man, Ballard realised that he was actually just a boy no older than the majority of his students, but possessing an unusual self-assurance for someone his age.

Light looked at the professor with the expression of someone who had met their favourite celebrity, only for them vomit on their new Oxford brogues. He looked like a young man who had lived the majority of his life at a private showing at an art gallery with his glass of champagne constantly being topped up by rushing skivvies. Ballard felt that he was being appraised like an antique tea service.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Professor," Light said.

"It was mysterious enough of a request that I had to oblige," Ballard explained, shaking Light's hand. On closer inspection he saw a boy who looked a little less impressive than he had seemed from a distance. As was his nature, he immediately began evaluating him, specifically, what was wrong with him.

"I was surprised to find that one of the leading authorities of ecology was here in Japan." Light turned on the megawatt charm but Ballard was wearing sunglasses where that was concerned.

"It's hard to go elsewhere with the travel restrictions in place nowadays. But then, we're not supposed to talk about that, are we?"

"I presume that you're not a supporter of Kira then?"

"I really don't have an opinion on Kira or the havoc he's wreaked," Ballard said with a twitchy smile. "You see, I'm just a humble scholar of ecology, I have no interest in politics, only more basic relations between organisms and the environment. We must all play to our strengths."

"I agree. Now, I'm sure that my associate must have briefed you on why I wished to speak with you. To elaborate, I have been following your lectures and essays on contaminants in the water supply and heard that you're lobbying for a new research centre. I'd like to help you with that."

"Well, now you do have my attention."

"There is a new water treatment plant near completion here in Tokyo, with others being modernised or built around the world. I would like to fund your research and in addition provide you with a study annex." Light's eyes widened as Ballard let off a guttural laugh.

"No. I'm sorry. No offence but you're just a boy What influence could you possibly have?" he said. Light smiled indulgently.

"No offence, but you're a lot older than I am and yet you're reduced to pestering everyone to help you with funding to the point that people actually run away from you at dinner parties. Or at least, that's what I heard. To be blunt, I'm offering you everything you want with the addition of funds and staff to enable you to carry out your research on a worldwide scale."

"This is a whistle-blowing scheme, isn't it?"

"Not at all. Let me be honest with you, Professor. In return for all your demands and in addition to being set up for life, I only want one thing from you."

"And what would that be exactly?" Ballard asked. Light marvelled at how the man's thoughts and feelings were so easy to read. He wondered what it must be like to have a face that betrayed you.

"Obviously you don't believe me," Light said, "and with good reason perhaps. I suggest that you check your bank balance and see if that changes your mind."

"I'm afraid that you've lost me and my time."

"I'm saying that I've deposited a considerable amount of money in your bank account. Check it if you want. If I don't hear from you in a few days then it will be retracted. If you spend any of it with no intention of accepting my offer, I'm afraid that I couldn't possibly say what might happen to you as a result."

"I don't take well to threats or bribery, no matter how preposterous they may be."

"Entirely up to you. I was hoping that you would be more sensible than you're proving to be. Anyway, take my card. I hope to hear from you but there are other people that I could approach." The professor looked at the card.

"Wait, this is the address of the Kira buildings. You work for Kira?" he asked.

"I have influence. Does that change your position? Perhaps we should continue this discussion there, just to set your mind at rest that this is a genuine offer."

"It sounds like a demand."

"I demand nothing but your cooperation."

* * *

Light sat down heavily but content after Ballard left. He traced over the man's signature on the contract. Ballard was the last of five scientists and advisors who had been signed up, but the only one with whom he had been actively involved. Light was tired from this effort in reasserting himself as Kira, though he had been surprised by Mikami's obvious bitterness. He grabbed his own hand to steady it since it was shaking quite noticeably. On top of that, he felt sick and exhausted. His mind wandered into a void where he could lose himself if he didn't keep a constant check on himself. Perhaps this was all too much in one go? Oh, the joy of withdrawal.

"I have a loving hatred of mercenary people," he said to Mikami who had just closed the door after the professor. "They're so agreeable to any demands which benefit them and they're loyal, if not trustworthy."

"I don't think that he can be trusted," Mikami said moodily. Light squinted at him, wondering how much a man could change in one day. He'd gone from subservient and flustered to outspoken and controversial in the space of a few hours

"No one can be trusted, but we need him," Light said, watching Mikami inspect the signature on the contract as if it would validate his concerns. "That is unless you're happy to risk poisoning everyone? He'll serve his purpose and then we'll eradicate the risk. He'll help us because of greed, his life will end, and natural balance is restored. He's intelligent enough not to make himself more of a risk than he already is, so he won't tell anyone."

"I hope that you're right, Kira-sama."

"I always am, aren't I? You had better arrange for the university to be compensated for his early 'retirement' before you leave."

"Yes, Kira."

"And, Mikami? About, the detention centre outside of Tokyo. What are the intake rates and levels of rehabilitation?" Mikami didn't show his sudden panic and answered quickly.

"I don't know offhand, sir. If you will give me a moment then I can find out for you," he said, stalling for time.

"No, not necessary," Light replied. He appeared very relaxed about the whole thing. "I know it to be untrue because I haven't authorised a mass extermination last time I checked. I doubt that it would have slipped my mind."

"I don't know where that rumour came from but I'll be sure to investigate it."

"Yes. We don't want this spreading, especially since it's something which is so opposed to my ideals. Each accused person must be evaluated by me. Kira is not a democracy."

Mikami realised from Light's bearing, if not his words, that he knew that there was probably some truth in this 'rumour' of Mikami's pet project, and that this was a warning to him. He didn't know how Light had learned of it, but the fact remained that it was clear that he did not approve. Mikami had planned on telling Kira at some point far in the future, confronting him with piles of evidence which proved the efficiency of dealing with offenders and anti-Kira revolutionaries. Now that glory had been denied him. That Kira had suddenly decided to take control was unprecedented and Mikami was irritated that he was being sidelined. Perhaps Kira was jealous because he had relied on him, practically giving Mikami sole control, only for him to do a better job as Kira that he had.

Despite Light's clammy, shaky appearance, when he concentrated then his mind was clearer than he had allowed himself to be for a long time. He couldn't be fooled. Mikami was a believer of economy, both of words and in all other matters, and he prided himself of his ability to mete out justice when needed. Large scale justice was no more difficult than individual cases. His message was to uphold the ethos of Kira - wrongful acts are dealt with swiftly and without mercy or ceremony. Those people did not deserve any of the time of investigation and trial. What his Kira was now saying sounded like backtracking, and wrong.

"Of course, sir," Mikami said, reluctantly.

"I'm glad that you agree. Good night, Mikami."

"Good night, Kira-sama," Mikami said with a bow, noting that it was not reciprocated, nor had it ever been. He felt as if the indignation was burning a hole in his chest. It seemed so unfair that he was being treated this way when it was he who had worked so tirelessly for months, only to be demoted by a teenage junkie.

He left the room and walked the corridors to his office. Sensor lights lit his path as he went, though he could have made the journey in complete darkness. He knew the whole building by heart and all the people who worked in it. He knew their faces and the names which went with them because it was his business to. Something had changed in him; he had realised his own worth and saw 'Kira' for what he was. Kira was a quirk of fate who did not deserve power the power he had. Mikami just had to figure out what to do about it.

* * *

Some days later, after further meetings, Ballard now knew what Kira wanted of him by reading between the lines. The pretence was that Kira was interested in a new system to filter and purify water supplies. It was only after Mikami mentioned privately that a great deal of emphasis in his proposed work was on safe levels of hormones in the water and what effect chemicals would have upon the population and the environment. He was told that Kira wanted Ballard to provide him with the necessary figures which would then come into force throughout the world. No pressure. Ballard was also positive that Light was Kira for one particular reason.

The morning after the first meeting, he had received a phone call in his little office. He stared at his Rothko print in the otherwise magnolia room and listened to the droning voice. The voice identified itself as L. Ballard had heard of L, but thought that he was dead. The voice told him that he was no longer safe and wanted to know what he had discussed with Kira. The voice offered him money and protection if he would disclose this information and any reservations that he had. He would receive a text message with a contact number if he chose to talk. Ballard put the phone down before he heard more. He wondered whether he should tell Kira later today. This could be a test.

* * *

Matsuda and Aizawa were bantering to pass the time and to act as a cover. They shared a sense of foreboding, like they were waiting for a storm to arrive, and Matsuda had confessed that he didn't trust Mello and Near. This had set doubt in Aizawa's mind as he watched the two boys swap one word messages to each other in silence.

There was no work to be done, again, but L wasn't present to complain to and hadn't been for some days. Near and Mello were oddly muted. Everyone was grateful that L hadn't joined them since Mello didn't have a good word to say about him recently. If L had emerged from his rooms, Mello would have struggled to contain himself.

Eventually Aizawa said he was going to try and talk to L, bored by the fractured, aimless group. Matsuda wished him luck and put on his coat to leave. Soon after, Mello suddenly got up and walked to his room. Near followed.

A few minutes later, Matsuda walked into Mello's room to find him sitting on the bed checking a revolver. Next to him was a large bag.

"What are you doing?" he said. Near and Mello stared at him. Mello quickly stood and stuffed the gun into the bag.

"Nothing. Just packing an overnight bag for Near. He's going to have a baby. And please come in, Matsuda. Mi casa es tu casa."

"Don't... don't speak to me like that," Matsuda stuttered..

"It was the Spanish, wasn't it? It means -"

"I know that you don't have any respect for me or anyone else here, but you could try not talking to me like I'm an idiot," he continued, gaining momentum to confront them with grievances long unsaid. "I've been here from the start, you two have just turned up."

"Ok..." Mello looked at Near and rolled his eyes.

"And we're a team. I've always treated you two with respect even though I have no idea who either of you are really. L brought you in to be part of the team and team is the word here because I don't feel like this is one." Mello opened his mouth to speak but Matsuda hadn't finished. "You're up to something and I think the rest of us deserve to know what it is. If you don't want to tell me then I can just go and ask L."

"It's nothing to do with L," Mello said calmly, taking the alien role of a lying pacifist. "Near and I are going to investigate something, but if we tell L and it turns out to be nothing then you know how he'll be."

"So what are you investigating then?"

"It's a lead," Near interrupted. "It just means that Mello and I need to keep an eye on a suspect for a few days to see if they have a link to Kira. If they do then we might have a way to get to him. That is all."

"Yeah, just everyday John le Carré stuff," Mello agreed. Matsuda crossed his arms.

"Well, like I said, I don't know you very well but what I do know is that you seem unreliable, Mello. If you're just observing someone then you don't need a gun, do you?"

"Gun?" Mello said innocently.

"You packed guns."

"You'd rather we didn't and got killed?"

"Maybe Aizawa or I should do this. Someone with more experience. How do I know that? Because I have experience. You're, what, sixteen years old? Seventeen? Wow."

"You think that _you_ have experience? Look, you're right. You don't know me and I don't know you. All I've seen you do is get cakes for L, but I've been trained for this since I was a kid. I've lived this. I think I can watch some bloke for a couple of hours."

"To be honest with you I wouldn't trust either of you to watch a kettle boil, never mind a potentially armed suspect, and L would probably think the same."

"Is this something to do with Light Yagami?" Near asked. Matsuda's confidence instantly deserted him with the mention of Light's name.

"What? No! Of course not. Why would it be anything to do with him? How do you know about Light anyway?"

"Because he was killed, wasn't he? Shot to death while on a mission? He was young too, and inexperienced. It's not surprising that you feel guilty," Near said, nonchalantly putting a map into the bag.

"I don't feel guilty! Light was completely different."

"Oh. I just thought that he was a civilian drafted in because L suspected him of being Kira."

"What are you doing?" Mello asked. Near ignored him.

"And if he died in those circumstances, no wonder you're worried about us doing a similar thing. Didn't he go alone to... I don't know, catch Kira or Astraea? Wasn't he a mole? If that was actually his intention." Near paused for a moment to let his words sink in before explaining to Matsuda's confused face. "L told us. L wouldn't tell you that. I suppose it goes to show how much L trusts us then, doesn't it?"

"You're lying. L wouldn't tell you about Light."

"Why do you think he took Mello to meet the Yagami family then?"

"He said it was..."

"Matsuda, we know that Light is Kira. You know too, don't you? That's quite a secret to hide from us after all your talk of teams and respect. L has proved unable to act but someone needs to."

"L had lost the plot more like," Mello grumbled. Matsuda opened the door to check that no one was in the office and closed it again.

"You're going to kill Light?" he whispered.

"That was the general idea."

"You can't just walk in and kill him."

"I can," Mello said.

"Yes, well, this is the part that I'm worried about," Near admitted. Mello stared at him, his face contorted with shock and anger.

"Carry on," he challenged.

"You're too emotionally invested and prone to do stupid things at the best of times."

"Near, go and suck the balls of a hairless goat," Mello said, raising his voice a little. "Of course I'm 'emotionally invested'. Jesus."

"Why is Mello emotionally invested?" Matsuda asked, but he wasn't part of the brewing argument.

"I'm not convinced," Near stated.

"Well, I'm not convinced that telling Matsuda everything is a great idea, so there you go."

"Matsuda can get us to Light Yagami. He can say that he wants to defect. L's gone mad, he's suicidal."

"Yeah, or we could send Kira an invite to pistols at dawn because that's more subtle. Christ's sake, Near, he'd never buy that."

"What else are we going to do? I don't think that shooting our way in is going to work when it's two of us against hundreds. The best we could hope for is being outnumbered twenty to one."

"If Matsuda turns up then Kira will double guess it.

"It's a risk but in his notes L mentioned that he felt that Matsuda was sympathetic to Kira. Yagami was probably aware of that too. To have him appear to defect would appeal to his ego."

"Woah, no. Stop right there," Matsuda said. "Firstly, I wasn't sympathetic to Kira. At first he was just killing criminals."

"And that was alright?" Mello asked, amazed by the double standards that he was in the room with.

"And secondly, I'm not a part of this. You don't know him."

"Which is why you're the perfect person to do this," Near told him. "He's seen Mello. Mello is not safe."

"No one is bloody safe!" Mello laughed incredulously.

"You would not get within 1000 yards of Kira and you know it." Near was sharp, but it was true. Even if Light didn't guess Mello's identity, he had seen him with L and would probably kill him on the spot because of the instant animosity they shared.

"And why didn't you mention this before? This was not part of the plan," Mello asked, furious. Just when he thought that he and Near were on the same page, Near betrayed him. The story of his life.

"I was waiting for an opportunity to present itself," Near shrugged. "Matsuda will have to set him up somehow."

"Wait, I'm not doing it. I'm not killing him," Matsuda said, hysterically. "I'm not dying."

"So you're perfectly ok with Kira killing everyone you know?" Near turned on him, his eyes were emotionless and unforgiving. "How long have we been waiting for L to do something, Matsuda? Didn't you think it was strange that L knows who Kira is but hasn't done a thing to stop him? Did it cross your mind that he's probably not going to?"

"I'm not sacrificing myself, I'm sorry."

"You'll go down in the books, Matsuda," Mello mocked. "In the chapter called "Fucking Idiot Cowards of History", you'll be right at the top of the page. And L will be in second place after Liza Minnelli in the 'I Have Really Shit Taste in Men' awards."

"Say what you like. I know Light and your plan is a suicide mission. Even if L was on his deathbed he wouldn't ask him to see him, and Light wouldn't go anyway."

"Right. I've had enough of this. I'm going, right now." Mello picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Do it if you're so intent on dying," Near said. "But you won't kill Kira this way. We can't go in without a plan."

"We had a plan. It involved going in there and shooting him."

"But the logistics-"

"Fuck the logistics," Mello laughed sourly. He barged past Near and Matsuda and walked into the main office.

"Are you even wearing a kevlar jacket?" Matsuda called after him.

"Wait," Near said quietly. Mello didn't even turn to face him.

"What is it now?"

"L had a piece of the Death Note. Yagami gave it to him, didn't he? That's what L wrote in his notes."

"Ohhhhh," Mello realised, dropping the bag. Near turned on Matsuda.

"Where does L keep the Death Note, Matsuda?"

"I don't know."

"We need that Death Note, Matsuda."

"I don't know where it is, I swear!"

"It was destroyed." L said. He was standing in a doorway at far side of the room with Aizawa being barely visible in the dim light behind him. Mello reached in his bag and held the gun inside.

"L, I didn't say anything!" Matsuda panicked, walking towards L.

"I didn't hear anything worth hearing. I missed the first half, I think. I was just coming in for this," L replied, picking up a carton. "By all means continue. Is this the part where Mello barges out with all guns blazing?

"Don't pretend that you don't know what we were discussing," Mello said coldly. Inside the bag he was holding in front of him, he turned the gun towards L.

"I did wonder why you would need the Death Note and how you have come to read my notes. But then I suppose if I just leave them lying around then it's hardly surprising." L smiled like he was amused by his own cleverness that a plan had come together and no one really knew the extent of it but himself. A shock of anger ran through Mello and his grip on the gun tightened out of sight.

"You know why," he growled.

"Yes, but it's not terribly important to me right now. There are other things which I was just about to tell Aizawa and maybe you, but I see that you are busy. Go ahead. Kill yourself."

"What things? Is poor little Kira ok?" Mello asked in a babyish voice. L stared at him for a moment.

"Your comment is invalid due to extreme idiocy."

"L, we have got to do something soon," Aizawa said calmly.

"I know," L whispered as Mello's face animated with anger.

"I don't trust him to do anything. All he cares about is Kira."

"I agree that L's objectives are hampered," Near agreed. "He may not be the right person to lead this task force having consistently lied and failed to act appropriately."

"Ah, a mutiny," L smiled. "Just what I needed to round off a perfect day."

Aizawa moved between L and Mello. He realised that he was probably the only person holding the sorry lot together at this moment, and was desperate to avoid confrontation.

"It's not a mutiny," he said, facing L. "We just need to know what's going on."

"Funny, because the only thing missing here is a plank for me to walk off," L replied. Mello was close to ripping L's face off just from seeing him, but hearing his wounded accusations of mutiny infuriated him even more.

"You've been hiding things from us," he shouted. "Go ahead, deny it. It's the only thing you're any good at."

"I haven't withheld anything which I thought that you would be able to understand," L replied simply.

"Oh, right. So it wasn't that you were hiding things from us because it didn't suit you then? We're not idiots."

"I disagree. You've done many things which could be classed as idiotic.

Aizawa, frustrated, raised his voice in the way he was only used to doing when his daughter would not go to bed.

"Stop arguing like old women!" he said. "Whatever we're doing, we do it as a team. No more people acting alone and bickering because this is too important. Tell us what you know, L."

L took a seat. He knew he would have had to do this eventually but he had hoped for a little more time to get all the preparations in order and to adjust to what he was going to do. He had been foolish for hoping that Near and Mello would remove Light's death from his conscience. He could see now that they were ill-prepared for an assassination of this scale. And now that the SPK had effectively dissolved, Near had few options to launch an effective attack. And Mello was not V. Though both were hasty, V was coldly focused when it came down to it. Mello was young and wrapped up in a little ball of hate which made him a liability. L took a breath.

"Kira is planning on contaminating the world's water supply."

Mello's laughter sounded like a cough. Aizawa screwed up his face with confusion.

"Uh... come again?"

L sighed. He was so tired of explaining things.

"High levels of synthetic oestrogenic compounds will be added into the water supply at source, infiltrating the waterways and drinking water. The effect will be that they will alter the hormonal and homeostatic systems of human, aquatic and animal life, gradually making everyone and everything infertile across the board. That is it."

"Why would he do that?"

"It is the ultimate method of control. It's not about controlling who lives and who dies, but who is born. Plus, it is completely indiscriminate. It would suit Kira that instead of placing faith in people until they do wrong in his eyes, that they would all be classed as inherently bad until they prove themselves otherwise. I suppose that some people will be selected to breed, or maybe not. He might just leave the population to run itself down to nothing and then start again from a blank slate to try and create a sinless race, if he can wait that long. I am hypothesising of course, but it will probably lead to something along those lines. And apart from that minor issue, there's the effect upon the environment and food supply, something that he's probably considered, but I doubt that he cares as long as he's alright. As Kira has ultimate control over scientific research, there will be no independent research into pollutants in the water and the whole thing will be passed off as a natural disaster. Everything will probably be quite unpleasant and hedonistic once people realise that there is no future. I suppose that there is still a chance that people will blame Kira and that there will be an uprising, but there then there is always the Death Note to keep everyone in line. Ultimately, I think that the plan is that everyone will turn to Kira for guidance and be nice, obedient little imbeciles."

"That's insane," Matsuda muttered.

"Yes, but that has never really held Kira back to be honest," L mused. Mello wondered whether L's wry smiles and the bored way in which he spoke was because he was genuinely slightly amused by this whole thing, or whether he was just a shitehawk. Either way, Mello began to admit to himself that L was, to him, Kira's accomplice. He remembered that Matt was always cheerfully distrustful of everyone, even L, and because of that was never disappointed by anyone.

Aizawa coughed loudly into his fist before he spoke.

"Nothing surprises me anymore. I just wonder how long you've known about this and how you found out? Not that it matters really. "

"It matters because you do not trust me, Aizawa-san, though that matters more to you than it does to me. I have known the full extent for just a little longer than you."

"Were you planning on telling us in a few months or a few years?" Mello asked accusingly.

"You have not forced my hand, Mello. My intention was to tell you as soon as I had a strategy. I miss the old days when my job did not include recruiting as many people as I can, as quickly as I can, and throwing them into a combat situation. Back to your question though, Aizawa-san. I found out because Kira has tried to engage a few people to help him. He had had to. Clever as he is, his schemes are too grand to put them into action alone. His mania is such that his ideas have a tendency to spiral. He believes that everyone should be as awestruck by Kira as he is, and it is this which has made him vulnerable. He was far more likely of succeeding if he had contented himself with smaller aspirations and relied only upon himself. It's easier to see him as evil, Mello, but he's far more complicated than that. I suppose that we should be grateful for his very human failing of wanting power."

"I don't want to try and understand him."

"That is probably for the best. Anyway, the scientists he enlisted either do not know or do not care about the true nature of his ostensibly philanthropic plans. The immense sums of money that he has been throwing at them probably helped. Unfortunately for Kira, I managed to get in touch with an ecologist who told me everything after I placed a seed of doubt in his mind. I knew that Kira was planning something, I just didn't know what. Kira has overlooked the fact that I am very adapt at hacking into CCTV systems. Well, to be fair to him, he did try and it did stop me for a while, but I digress. A little while after Mello and I returned from the Yagami house, I noticed Kira return to his HQ with two people. I recognised one of them, but not the other. This is the first time that I know of Kira leaving the safety of his compound, so it was worth looking into. Tracking back from that point, I found that they had come from the University of Science. Further research proved that the unknown man with him was a professor of ecology. I made contact with him but he refused to speak to me. However, something changed his mind. I'd like to take credit for it but he probably got there on his own."

"Considering that he's been asked to help poison everyone, it's not really that much of a surprise that he thought that it was bad idea."

"Kira has not divulged his intention though. The professor had his suspicions based on the brief and from what one of Kira's employees told him. Mikami, as it happens. I don't think that the professor cares that much about humans, but he cares very much about the effect these chemicals would have upon the environment."

"Tell us what are we going to do." Aizawa demanded.

"Well, I was thinking of going along the Mello patented route."

"I thought you said that that was suicide."

"We don't really have a choice now. You must all understand though, it is suicide. You must think very carefully before you sign up for this, especially you, Aizawa-san, since you have a young family. I can provide only so much for the victims' families since several of my more substantial bank accounts have been mysteriously closed and I still have to purchase some munitions from the black market. I have called what contacts I have with the resistance and my remaining agents, but there are not many left. Not many of the resistance are used to using weapons, let alone own them. You are all needed but you must all think of the consequences since it is likely that this will be the last thing that you ever do. I could tell you the probability of each of you dying but I don't suppose that you want to hear that right now. Don't be carried away by thoughts of fighting for righteousness because, despite what they say, the glory in sacrificing your life is overrated. People might remember your name but that will be of little use to you when you are dead. There is probably some comfort in knowing that you will have contributed in preventing an apocalypse of sorts, but it's not certain that we will actually be successful."

"You're not selling this very well," Mello said as L reached for a bowl of a mysterious sugary concoction.

"I'm not here for a pep talk," L replied between munches. "I'm just stating facts."

Aizawa had still not made his mind up, wanting to hear the full extent of L's plan before he decided. He was quite surprised that he was taking it in his stride, but for some reason he couldn't picture himself walking into Kira's buildings and being shot at. Everything he heard sounded dreamlike and barely there, though the nervousness in his stomach reminded him that it was really happening.

"What would it involve?" he asked.

"Infiltration and detonation of the Kira HQ buildings. The appropriate time would be between the hours of 2am and 5am when there is more of a skeleton crew."

"What about the people inside?"

"It depends entirely upon how many people we can get on our side. I would expect some resistance from those in the building. If they refuse to lay down arms then I would not suggest wasting much time trying to reason with them."

"You mean, kill them?" Matsuda said. If possible, looked more horrified than he had so far.

"If necessary. The aim is to destroy the buildings. This can only be done effectively by detonating specific structural areas, so we must get inside to do that. The building where Kira is will present the most difficulty, so we must act quickly before they have time to put up a proper defence."

"Can't we just find Kira and kill him?" Mello asked. Near, as usual, said nothing. He took in everything like a sponge and kept his thoughts to himself.

"It is not just about Kira, it is about destroying however many Death Notes there are. I have found that this can be done by fire, which is handy. We will not have time to interrogate and search the buildings, so it is easier to destroy them. Plus, it will be a statement that the Kira regime is destroyed. We don't want a war, we want to prevent one."

"But aren't there other Kira factions in other countries?"

"Yes, but Kira himself is in Tokyo. The people who will remain faithful to his ideology will be leaderless, and without a Death Note he will have lost the foundation stone of his regime. Anyway, the main aim at this point in time is to prevent his plan going ahead. Tentatively, we will move tomorrow night. I don't want to delay it incase people start discussing it with people who should not know."

Mello took a seat opposite L.

"So we kill Kira. And you're ok with that?"

"What I feel isn't important."

"I suppose that when you're faced with someone who thinks that they're God, or at least on first name terms with him, you have to admit that you can't save them," Aizawa said.

"God is the last refuge of those who are truly alone," L said thoughtfully.

"Or insane," Near said. L looked at him.

"That wasn't exactly what I meant."

"You said it yourself though," Mello joined in. "Those were your words exactly. You said it when you were classifying types of killers by their motives." L turned away.

"I didn't realise that you people were storing up sound bites. I said a lot of things to Wammy classes and it was very inconvenient having to talk to you. You must have caught me on a bad day."

"I... uh. I better talk this over with my wife," Aizawa mumbled, grabbing his coat.

"No," L said sternly. "Like I said, no discussion with people who are not involved."

"But if I die then -"

"I will tell you what your wife will say; she will tell you not to go. You make this decision, you make it on your own."

Aizawa thought it over for second. At first it looked as if he was going to argue the point but then his shoulders sloped like those of a tired man.

"Well, I said that I'd see it out to the end," he said.

"Be back here tomorrow at 6am," L said, returning Aizawa's weak smile.


	25. I Know it's Over

**Chapter 25**

**I Know it's Over**

_I know it's over, a__nd it never really began_

_But in my heart it was so real_

_And you even spoke to me, and said:_

_"If you're so funny, then why are you on your own tonight?_

_And if you're so clever, then why are you on your own tonight?_

_If you're so very entertaining, then why are you on your own tonight?_

_If you're so very good-looking, why do you sleep alone tonight?_

_I know..._

_'Cause tonight is just like any other night. T__hat's why you're on your own tonight_

_With your triumphs and your charms w__hile they're in each other's arms..."_

_It's so easy to laugh, i__t's so easy to hate. I__t takes strength to be gentle and kind_

_Love is natural and real, b__ut not for you, my love. __Not tonight, my love_

_Love is natural and real_

_But not for such as you and I, my love_

_Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head_

_~ The Smiths_

* * *

Light was sleeping before he heard the crashes. It almost came too quickly for his mind to process. Little firework cracks like at New Year, then thuds, and then the screams.

He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. There were fires outside and people in black running inside the building. Some were trying to escape but fell down like puppets and never got up again. Just ghosts illuminated by fire.

"They're inside," Ryuk said. "They're coming for you, Light."

"No," Light mouthed, but no sound came out. It was true. What should he do? He ran through his office and opened it to hear more screaming, only closer and more shrill. The screams were being chased by gunfire. He shut the door, forgetting to lock it, and ran to a large surreal framed painting which he tore off the wall, revealing a safe. He spun the mechanism, mouthing the combination to himself like a mantra. Inside was the Death Note.

"You better move, Light."

"I know, Ryuk, I know," Light shouted. He rushed to his bedroom and pressed a button under his desk before throwing some money and clothes in a bag. He didn't hear the door open.

"It didn't take me long to find you," a voice said behind him. Light spun around at the sound to see L standing in the doorway. "Whenever I need to find you I just look for the most expensive looking door," L explained.

Light knew that this could not have been entirely true; his door looked like all the others. What was true was that his floor was the most luxuriously decorated compared to the others, and the two security guards posted there might have given his location away. In any case, it hardly mattered now.

"Have you come to kill me?" he said bitterly. "What are you doing here?" L smiled and locked the door behind him.

"I suppose you could say that you're being shut down, Kira. This property is condemned."

And Light felt so much anger for him then, realising what he'd done. He saw L as a coward for doing this, and he was angry at himself for being unprepared for it. "I'll give you five minutes to get out. I've already called for reinforcements," he said.

"In ten minutes this building won't be here, and if your little army of idiots arrive before that, then I'm afraid that they'll be going with it." L said, as matter of fact as if Light had missed a train, but there would be another one. He sat on a chair and the whole thing was so unexpected and relaxed that Light just stood there like a statue. "Why didn't you hide?" L asked.

"There are a few reasons but the main reason is because this is my _fucking_ building. I never thought that you would be so stupid."

"I could say the same about you. Did you really think that I wouldn't act at some point? Your little scientific experiment idea clinched it though." Light looked bemused and surprised as reality hit him. His hair was all over the place and his pyjamas so creased and crumpled that he didn't look like himself. He regained some self-awareness from the way L was looking at him, almost pitifully, and immediately began straightening himself out. "Does the name Ballard mean anything to you?" L asked.

"Can't say that it does."

"That's not like you, Light. You're usually so good with names. Anyway, he has decided not to go along with your offer. Sorry." Light looked at the look at the door as the shooting sounded so much closer. "So, it's up to you," L continued. "Shall we die here or will you come with me peacefully?"

"Why should I leave?" Light said petulantly. L glanced towards the hastily packed bag on the bed and looked back at Light sadly.

"I know that this might be hard for you to accept, I suppose it's something to do with your ego," he mused, pausing for a moment to pull his legs up onto the chair and fold his arms around his knees. "It's over, Light. You can die here if you want. Would it make it easier for you if I died here too? Because I will, you know."

Light put a hand to his forehead and laughed bitterly at the gesture. "Oh God. This is too much! I was sleeping there. Do you even know what time it is?"

"Yes, but this kind of operation is not known for good manners. Nice pyjamas," L observed.

"So your plan is to blow me up. That's it?" Light asked, like he was repeating the punchline of a ridiculous joke.

"That is it."

"I don't believe you. What would that achieve? Even if it is true, it won't happen until you're out of here." He grabbed his watch from the table, checking the time. The action seemed to calm him. "Which gives me enough time to get changed," he said at last, and walked to the wardrobe.

"You should not procrastinate to give your followers time to save you. That is not going to happen," L said, unfolding his legs. "I told you, we have eight minutes now before we die."

"Whatever you say," Light replied, quickly pulling a sweater over his head.

"L, where are you?" a voice screamed from somewhere outside. Someone on the same floor.

"Somebody wants you," Light said as he casually reached for some black trousers. "Sounds like Matsuda, judging by the level of hysteria. So you brought him? What a nice little reunion this will be."

"Your eyes are dilated," L observed.

"Are they? It must be all this excitement." He walked towards him and touched the back of L's hand. L never noticed the tiny scrap of the Death Note which Light pressed against his skin since he was so shocked by the monstrous black demon which suddenly appeared in the room as soon as Light touched him. "There. I'm sure that you've noticed Ryuk?" Light asked, walking away again as Ryuk waved a gangly arm.

"He's hard to miss," L replied. Light put a few more things in the bag as calmly as if he was packing for a holiday.

"Ha! Yes, he is. So now you know everything and see everything. I suppose that's all you ever wanted."

L ignored Light and continued to stare at Ryuk. "I want to talk to you, actually," he said to him. "Maybe I will if I don't die here -"

"Don't talk to him," Light turned on him abrasively. "How many people are there, L?"

"Why, are you scared?"

"I've never been scared."

"Not true."

Light smiled, knowing what L was referring to. "Ah, but I wasn't myself then."

"I think that you were very much yourself then."

"Why are you here really? Why now and like this? It can't all be because of what Ballard told you. You don't even like people so why should you care?"

"I don't know, Light," L rolled his shoulder, the cracks of his bones audible. "I suppose that I must love you or something."

"Don't..." Light blurted out, pausing to gather himself. "Don't say that. You can't come in here with your cast from _The Naked Gun_, kill my staff - are you actually killing my staff? - and say things like that."

"Ok then. I came here because you've gone a little too far, even for me. And you know that I've been more than lenient with you."

"So, you came all this way just for me and to blow up my building. How touching. Why are you always getting in the way, L? You lost and you really need to get over it because, apart from it being incredibly pathetic, it's becoming more than a little annoying."

"If I can make things just that little bit more difficult for you then I consider it a life well spent, dear Light."

The lights went out, the power probably cut by some anonymous idiot. The room was now lit only by the fires outside, and by that glow L could see that Light looked as if he'd been stung in the mouth by a wasp. He walked up to L and leaned towards him, propping himself up on the arms of the chair.

"By the way, I'm having your HQ torn down. What do think of that?" he whispered. "Someone will probably build a public toilet on there."

"Seems like an appropriate tribute to our little contretemps. I approve. Will you put up a plaque? 'On this spot, Kira and L did battle and various other things. No good came from it. Shit in peace.'"

Light's normally sensual mouth contorted further. "Please, please shut up," he said, pushing himself away.

L made a zipping motion across his mouth with his fingers and sat, grinning. Light walked towards a cabinet and took something out of a drawer, blocking L's view of what it was. L's first thought was that it was the Death Note. Then Light moved to the window and gazed out, taking in what he saw with indifference. He lifted the gun in his hand and checked the barrel.

"Déjà vu," L remarked. "When in doubt, pick up the nearest means of killing someone. This isn't your weapon of choice though, is it? If you're going to kill me you could at least stick to your normal MO."

"It's not necessarily for you. Just follow the rules and everything will be fine." Light pointed the gun at L. "Call them off."

"And you're the one who makes up the rules, I know. Are you worried about where your back-up thugs are? They have been an awfully long time. Then again, it is the middle of the night on a Sunday. What time is it now, by the way?"

"They'll be here."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Call it off, L."

"No. Oh, look what I have here," he said, pulling out a gun from the back of his waistband. Light laughed.

"Can I ask why I have to go with you? I thought that we agreed that we were going to stay away from each other."

"You mean after you killed a few people that I was quite fond of and tied me up while you flounced off to become a god, or Wimbledon champion, or whatever you were planning?" L said, but Light wasn't listening. "Light, did you hear that?"

"No," Light lied. He thought about leaving L here and running, but part of him couldn't believe what was happening. It couldn't happen to him.

"It sounds like a shot from a silenced revolver," L said. "Not sure why they would bother with the silencer, but never mind. It sounds like an American make, but I could be wrong. Pretty close now."

"L, as far as your diversion tactics go, this is one of your less successful attempts."

"Alright, Light. This is all in your head, if you want to believe that. I'm not really here and you're not really about to be blown up and there really isn't gunfire outside. You just carry on pretending that none of this is happening. Ah, there goes another gun shot which I'm clearly imagining."

Light heard it. It wasn't the odd gunshot now, it was a volley of them. In fact, there was a strange opera of sound; there were footsteps from the floor above and he heard someone impatiently try the door to his office. "You're going to do this, aren't you?" Light mumbled. "You really have set me up."

"No, you set yourself up. You're right, there is a person behind that door who wants your head and he doesn't care who he has to kill to get it. You have upset a few people, to put it mildly. There's no use running, really. He knows you're here, he knows your name, and he is going to kill you."

"You told him my name? You did this."

"Not directly. I'm just letting it happen."

"Call it off, L! Do you want to see me die here?"

"No. No, I don't. But I'm going to."

There was banging outside. Ryuk stuck his head through the door like it wasn't there. He looked like he'd run straight into it at great speed.

"Ryuk?" Light asked. Ryuk drew back, his decapitated head materialising.

"It doesn't look good for you, Light," he replied with that awful grin which never left him.

Light rushed to the bag. L watched him and placed his gun on the floor before approaching him. "Did you find what you were looking for?" L asked softly. "I hope that you did. Don't try to run, Light. It's not like you. You always needed to learn about acceptance."

And L was at Light's side now. He noticed the pitch blackness of the Death Note, darker and purer than black, in the bag. He reached for it but Light grasped his hand so tightly that it hurt. They struggled over it until it was torn, nearly in two, and Light loosened his grip in shock. L took the opportunity to throw the Death Note behind the headboard of the bed and stood in front of it like a human barricade.

Light lifted the gun.

"Call it off," he demanded.

But L just looked at him in silence. Everything outside sounded louder now. The screaming had stopped and there was just the shouting for L and the hurtful noise of bullets hitting the wood of the door and the metal of the handle. Light cocked the gun and supported his wavering hand with his other arm while L continued to stare. Light closed his eyes. After a moment he lowered the gun, set it on the table, and stood there, waiting. He couldn't do it. Not even for himself, not even for his world.

"Light," L said, drawing closer to him.

"Please," Light asked, weakly. The door was splintering on the inside now as tiny holes appeared in the veneer, but L seemed immovable to his begging. "I didn't think I'd die like this."

Ryuk laughed.

Heavy thuds cracked the panel of the door in two and Mello and Aizawa burst in, followed by Matsuda and Near moments later. Everyone lowered their guns when they saw Light and L, apart from Mello.

L turned around, partially blocking Light from view. "Good morning, gentlemen."

"Get out of the way, L," Mello said. His voice was abrasive and without humanity. The blond hair at his temple was bloodied and stuck to his head like gory hair gel.

"Put the gun down," L told him.

"I said, move!"

"What? Oh. Yes, I do seem to have a habit of standing in front of him when guns are around."

"You are pretty low on my priorities right now. I'll shoot through you to get to him if I have to." Mello saw Light reach suddenly for his gun on the table and quickly shot at his hand, scraping it and knocking the gun to the floor. "Now that was pretty stupid. I had low expectations of you, Kira, but I didn't think you'd hide behind L. Now move, L. I'm giving you a chance even though you don't deserve one."

"Why? Surely this is my place in life, to shield him from bullets? Maybe it is the one thing that I have never failed in doing."

Light glanced at the distance between himself and the wardrobe where there was an emergency escape route, now concealed with clothes. It ran along the outside of the building and down below street level. He tried to think of a way of grabbing the gun and getting through the door without being shot.

"Don't be stupid. He won't kill me," Light told L. "That's your job, isn't it Ryuk? I thought that you were looking forward to killing me?"

"Who the hell is he talking to?" Mello asked. "Actually, it doesn't matter." He cocked the gun.

"No right to a fair trial then?" Light smiled. L inclined his face towards Light.

"Light, maybe sarcasm isn't the way to ease the situation here."

"Nah, that's not clever either," Mello agreed. "And a fair trial? Like the one you gave to the thousands of people you've killed? No."

"He has a point," L conceded, making Mello take a step towards them.

"L, choose a fucking side and make it mine or, I swear to God, I will kill you."

"Killing your employer is really going to hamper your chances for future employment."

"What were you saying about sarcasm?" Light said before turning back to the men at the door. "If he kills me, none of you will get out alive."

Mello grinned. "Well I can't speak for everyone else but I took that for granted when I came in."

"Yes, Light. Not everyone thinks that their lives are as crucial as yours," L stated. He turned back to Mello. "When you shoot, try to hit this shoulder, not this one. On cold days this one aches like a bastard and reminds me of Light. I suppose that it is only right that I should have a matching pair."

"Don't think that I won't do it, L."

"I believe you."

"L, get out of the fucking way!"

"Do what he says, L," Light said. He tried to get past L but was held back.

"You want him to kill you? He will, you know. If I move, he will shoot you and nothing is going to save you. I doubt that your friend over there will help you. You are not immortal, Light. Don't believe the hype."

"L, for the last time, get out of the way," Mello shouted. "Are you really on his side after everything?"

"No, but I would choose him over you. Do I really have to explain this? I'm sorry, but you were right. Wammy's House force-fed us with a concept of morality based on the enforcement of law, not always what is right to each of us. I have been blind to the truth; nothing is right or wrong. Why should I be restrained by a few thousand years of civilised preaching? I am in conflict with law and the vague, pointless, amalgamated concepts of what is good and what justice is based on ancient opinions. I see a need to stop Light, but I don't see why his death is necessary to do that. I should hand him to you, I know. I was trying to do that, but I choose not to."

"You can't! You promised me!" Mello said, he was suddenly crying and he didn't know when he started. The tears burned his eyes and he rubbed angrily at them.

"Why can't I? Because it might upset you? Promises mean nothing."

"Because of all the people who have died because of him," Near interjected. "You said to Mello that you had made a mistake with him. You can't do it again."

"It wasn't a mistake," L said defiantly. Near couldn't believe that L was rejecting everything he knew, and for a murderer. Aizawa tried to stop everything from escalating. He couldn't imagine Mello killing L before, but he could now.

"We need to calm down here," he said. "Let's just arrest Kira, ok, L? We'll just arrest him and get out of here. The building has been rigged, L. They're just waiting for us to get outside. Alright, Mello. We'll arrest him, ok? We'll figure this out when we're out of a building which is about to explode."

"Don't be so selfish, L!" Mello shouted, ignoring Aizawa's psychiatrist tones. "He killed Watari and you can forgive him for that? What is wrong with you?" L looked at the floor. Things were ringing true to him but they were just distant echoes. He wasn't that person anymore.

"I know. Yes, when it comes down to it, I am selfish. But would you kill Matt? I cannot allow you to kill Light. We have all committed crimes. I would rather choose my own course than be steered by textbook concepts of right and wrong."

Mello scowled coldly. He blinked to clear his eyes and raised his gun again, determined.

Light looked at Ryuk, who was holding his own Death Note in his hands, thumbing through the pages to find a blank space. Light wondered whether he'd prefer being shot by some no-mark or killed by Ryuk. Really, he didn't want to give either the satisfaction.

"You're V's son then, I suppose," he said to Mello, arrogantly. "So I killed that idiot redhead for nothing. What a waste of paper." Mello moved forwards aiming at Light's head, half hidden behind L's, when Aizawa held him back.

"You can't kill L!"

"As far as I'm concerned, he's killing himself," Mello shouted back, trying to loosen Aizawa's grip on the gun which was still pointing at L. "Let go, Aizawa! Get away from me."

"I'll trade," Light said quickly, looking at Ryuk. He couldn't see any other choice now.

"Light?" L asked.

"Half of two minutes isn't much, Light," Ryuk grinned, he could do nothing else.

"Just do it."

"Whatever you want, buddy." Even before Ryuk had stopped speaking, Light half-collapsed on L's shoulders, holding himself up as the pain burned through his head. L could only turn his face sideways towards Light. He couldn't risk giving Mello a clean shot.

"Light, what have you done?" he asked.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine," Light replied, pressing his face into L's neck as the pain subsided.

"I don't believe you."

"You never did," Light laughed quietly. When he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was L's name. He quickly looked at Mello and reached inside his pocket, out of sight.

"Matsuda, get that gun and then we can restrain Kira. No guns," Near demanded, gripping Mello's right arm to help Aizawa hold him back.

Despite the havoc around him, L was fixed on Ryuk's prolonged giggles, which only served to heighten his suspicion of Light and his 'trade'. He followed the shinigami's amused gaze and turned around suddenly to see Light holding a sheet of paper with two names and the beginnings of another on it.

"No!" L shouted, reaching for the paper, as if he could stop it now. Light let him take it from him, the blood from his hand dripping down his side. L looked at him like he was a monster - like he was Ryuk. So that was why Light was so adamant about getting changed; so he had access to a little scrap of murder which he had secreted in his pocket. Whatever Light had traded was for the ability to _know_ names. L realised that he was an abettor to this and that he had shielded Light so that he could be Kira. He had allowed this to happen. The thought pounded through his head that he had always known that it would be this way but had never allowed himself to believe it. He had chosen Light long ago.

"I'm sorry. I had to," Light whispered. L just stared at the paper and the bloody fingerprints, letters, and characters. The names had been written large and ugly in Light's own blood.

Mello's arm dropped to his side. He stood like a sleepwalker now, his face soft with clarity as Near shouted his name. Aizawa looked at L and Light, and he knew. When Mello raised his gun again, Aizawa let him.

What it is to see the bullet that kills you, Light thought. He quickly took L's hand and dragged him backwards, pushing the clothes in his wardrobe aside to reveal the metal door. A shot rang behind them but sounded like it had hit the floor and ricocheted off into nowhere. Light pulled a stupefied L into a steel clad corridor and slammed the door shut. They could hear thuds of bullets and shouting from the room that they had just left.

"You killed them," L murmured.

"Hate me later." Light tried to pull L after him like a possession that he'd won, but L shook his hand away. "You're coming with me, aren't you?" he asked.

"No."

"L, I'm sorry but they were going to kill us. I didn't have a choice, did I? I just gave up half my life for you!"

"I wouldn't have wanted you to. I wouldn't have wanted you to save me if it meant that you killed them."

"I didn't kill them all."

"Oh yes, you showed such restraint!" L shouted, pushing him away. "You _would_ have killed them all if I hadn't stopped you!"

"L, please, we have to go. They'll blow the building up with us still inside if we don't move."

"Go then!"

"No. I... I can't leave you."

"Why?"

Ryuk appeared through the metal wall as by osmosis, you could almost see the atoms which weren't really there.

"You're still here?" he said, but L and Light didn't seem to know or care that he was there. "They've gone now. That was a good one, Light."

"I won't leave you because I need you," Light said.

"Huh?" Ryuk pulled a face which was probably as close to confused as he could manage.

"That's not a good enough reason," L replied.

"Oh," Ryuk chuckled.

"There's no time for this!" Light shouted. He took hold of L's arm and started dragging the fighting man after him. L successfully flung Light into the wall which made a hollow sound as he smacked against the bulging metal.

L stared down upon Light coldly. "You made me just like you."

"No- "

"You're a murderer."

Light paused at the accusation and slowly stood up. "I know," he said, seeing L's expression change minutely. "But I killed them for you." He was practically drowned out by the dull shouts from outside.

"No. You killed them because you wanted to save yourself. You killed them for nothing."

"I did it to save you! It wasn't for nothing!" Light argued. L could see time running in Light's desperate face. He was someone who wanted to live, but only if L allowed him to. "Ok," Light relented, his voice was soft and fleeting in that awful place. "It had to be this way. I know. But it's not enough."

_It's not enough._ Light had said those words before, a long time ago. L didn't know what he had meant at the time, but with the joy of retrospective, it was clear to him now that Light had meant that neither L nor Kira was enough for him. He had needed Kira and L, but he couldn't have both. What stood between them was only ever a matter of choice. Light could easily run now and have what was left of Kira, or he could stay here and die with L, and he was choosing L. Poor Light was always fighting with time and watching it drain through his fingers. Now, with those words in a new time and setting, Light meant that their time wasn't enough. And L knew that Kira wasn't a part of it.

As these thoughts flew by in precious few seconds, L's eyes filled with tears, something he had never really experienced before. He had known grief, but he had never really shed a tear for himself or others. Now there were so many bodies piled up because of him and the choices that he had made, but his tears were for Light. There was no regret in Light for what he had done, none of it. L would never see regret or guilt there because Light's conviction in what he believed was as strong as L's. He would hate L for denying him of Kira, but if forced to make a decision, it would be for L, like L himself had chosen Light. They were both seeing their very different righteous beliefs crumble like hollow shells when confronted with life without each other. So nothing had changed and everything had changed, with this new understanding at the end of days.

"Damn you," L said. Light looked into his eyes and smiled affectionately.

"You too," he whispered.

L couldn't smile back. When he looked at Light now, he saw shades of hatred for what they'd both done. In Light's eyes, he saw people who shouldn't have died, but even though they were there, they only very slightly obscured his love for him. They shared that blame. For Light, he could ignore other people's tragedies; they paled into insignificance, and it was something disgusting in its selfishness, but it was the truth. Did he and Light deserve to live? No. But he didn't want to see Light die here. Not when he could prevent it. Because there is no cure for love, and he was a fool to ever think that there was.

A slight motion in the corner of his eye dragged L from this realisation. Ryuk was standing behind Light. He was drawing out a black book from a bag at his waist.

"Don't," L managed, his voice was thick with the horror of what Ryuk was going to do.

"What is it?" Light asked.

L's eyes flickered towards him and knew that Light could see the answer in him as clearly as if he was a mirror. "Nothing." L lied. He spoke coldly, like it was an order. _Don't look at him. Stay with me._

Light stood up. Something was stopping him from turning around to see what L was staring at. Acceptance stopped him. Not wanting to see his death, but to look at L and see his own life as it ended. He knew what it was. "He's writing my name, isn't he?" he said. It wasn't really a question. He was just going to stand there and let it happen, grateful for being the first to die.

"Please," L said to Ryuk, and saw that there was no pity in death. He would take life indiscriminately, but he was still just waiting. "Wait," L demanded, quietly and desperately, as though he was only asking for a little time to think, when really infinite time was what he wanted. Ryuk let the book hang limp in his hand, and L stole the opportunity he was being given. "Don't say any more," he told Light, as he walked ahead. When Light caught up, they started to run.

* * *

Mikami opened the door of the walk-in safe slowly and, after seeing no one in sight, ran past the rubbish, bullet cases, splintered wood and upturned tables, imprinting the silence with the sound of his own steps. He made it to his office and locked the door behind him. A black book was tightly held in his hand, his breathing laboured more from the danger than from exertion. He had heard the shouting in the lobby first, however long ago that had taken place. Peering over the large conch shell of a staircase, he had seen the chaos from above; people like ants running away from the sharp bursts of light and noise. Then he had run to the safe, where no one found him. The combination was a string of sevens interspersed with the oddly placed four. No one could have got in once he'd locked it from the inside, apart from Kira, and Kira had never arrived.

He placed the Death Note on the table and picked up the phone. In the eerie quiet of the now abandoned building, he heard the faint ring of Light's phone from down the corridor. It rang for minutes. No one answered it.

"He's dead," Mikami said to himself. He considered going to investigate, with the hope of finding a corpse riddled with bullets, but he wasn't yet sure of his own safety. He sat behind his desk. He should think about how to get out of the building and where he should go, but one thought obliterated all others; he was Kira now.

He started laughing quietly, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of the wave rushing over him, and then stopped with a shocking, inhuman abruptness. He should be certain that Light was dead. Reaching forward suddenly, he grabbed the Death Note greedily and knocked over a number of pens in trying to reach for one, sending them clattering on the floor. If Light was already dead, then this wouldn't make any difference, would it? He wished for a moment that the disgusting shinigami was here, just so he could make sure that it was safe for him to try and kill someone who may already be dead. There were too many stupid rules with this thing, he thought, looking at the black cover fondly. It was just one of the quirks and he could accept them for what it gave him in return. He decided that it was worth the risk, and he couldn't afford to wait.

He closed his eyes, and with an upturned corner of his mouth he pictured Light in his mind until it was fleshed out and clear. He opened his eyes again and placed the nib of the pen on the paper thinking only of Light's face, and slowly began to write.

Mikami had just written the characters for 'night' and 'god' when he felt an immense shudder. For a moment he thought that it was an earthquake, or something within himself. He didn't have time to realise what it really was. Almost immediately afterwards, the sound hit him, and then the fire, as everything around him and everything he ever was or could be, turned into ashes.

* * *

Light lay on the bed in the hotel room, the sound of voices more familiar to him than his own drifted muddily as if he was underwater. He tried to focus on the words being said.

"I am just questioning your reasons for killing him. Is it complete indifference or the need to close a chapter? You don't want to see him fail because you like him, be honest. Is it revenge?"

"It's a promise," Ryuk answered. "He agreed to it."

"But it's not over yet," L stated firmly. Light sat up on the bed and rubbed at his face in an effort to wake himself up.

"L," Light whispered. His voice felt broken and he coughed as he stood.

"My suggestion is this; you let us go. Think of it like hide and seek. Without cheating, you can search for us and we'll run from you. If you catch us, you can kill both of us."

"No," Light said upon reaching the door. L and Ryuk looked at him as if he was a stranger to them. Those red glowing letters and numbers were still over L's head every time that Light saw him. He blinked to try and make them go away but they were still there when he opened his eyes again. Sighing, he walked to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.

"Two for the price of one?" Ryuk asked.

"Yes, that's exactly it."

"No, L," Light repeated.

"Be quiet, Light," L replied, turning back to Ryuk.

"No. This is my problem, not yours."

"I beg to differ."

"It's nothing to do with you. Like Ryuk said, I agreed to this."

"I am tied to you whether you like it or not. I hate to rub this in since I know that it must annoy you, but I'm trying to save your life, so stop talking."

"It's not going to work. Look at him!" Light waved towards Ryuk. "He just thinks that you're funny."

"I'm interested," Ryuk admitted.

"Good," L smiled. "So, is it a deal?" He held out his hand to shake hands, but the god of death just stared at it.

"I don't know. If there's no Death Note, what will make it interesting?"

"There is no Death Note in this deal. To keep it interesting for you, we will leave clues to our new location so you will only ever be one step behind." Light swallowed a mouthful of water quickly so he didn't choke on his laughter.

"This is ridiculous! You'll be offering him apples next," he said.

"Apples?"

"I like apples," Ryuk chuckled guiltily. L looked back at Light who simply shrugged to confirm it.

"Oh. That explains a lot actually. I suppose that apples can be arranged," L thumbed his lip as he watched Ryuk twist himself into a pose a yoga expert would have been proud of.

"Really?" Ryuk gasped.

"Don't you have to go back to the shinigami realm though, Ryuk?" Light asked the creature. "Can you really hang around here chasing someone without a Death Note?"

"Uh..."

"Light, anyone would think that you don't want to live," L said.

"I'm just pointing out how this won't work."

"Well we don't require your input, thank you."

"I guess that you're still the a Death Note owner, Light," Ryuk said thoughtfully. "I could just stay here until you die, or you could ask me to give you another Death Note." Ryuk's smile widened, exposing all of his shark-like teeth down to his black, glistening gums.

"He won't be doing that," L said emphatically.

"So I just follow you? No Death Note, no nothing?"

"Yes."

"For fuck's sake," Light breathed out heavily. He turned on the tap and stuck his head under it so the voices were muffled again. He found that he preferred this conversation that way. This whole thing moving too quickly without him. He thought of trying to catch Ryuk alone but doubted that he'd get the opportunity to speak to him again if he agreed to L's proposal. At no point had Light accepted death, not really, and at no point would he have given up the Death Note for L or anyone else. He felt ashamed while admitting to himself that his heart was truly as dark as tar.

* * *

Light waited in the bathroom for the hoped for sight of Ryuk ghosting through the walls. He was not disappointed.

"Hello, Ryuk."

"Hi, buddy. You're lucky, aren't you? I like the way you got rid of L."

"I needed to talk to you, didn't I? Are you really going along with this then?"

"For a while, maybe. I don't know. It depends how interesting you make it."

"I need another Death Note, Ryuk."

"Yeah, but you lost it."

"You know that that wasn't my fault. Give me another one."

"I have to write a report and stuff about what happened to the last one," Ryuk said, scratching his head. "I'm not sure how I'm going to explain all this. Some guys are gonna be pretty angry at me. Y'see, your Death Note was someone else's. He lost it and I found it."

"So? Give me yours."

"Naaaah, can't do that. This is mine. I'll have to find out if any of this is allowed anyway. It's a lot of work," he groaned. "Besides, I don't know if I want to give you another notebook. You had your chance, Light."

"So that's it?"

"Maybe. If I change my mind, I'll get back to you."

Ryuk faded, mist-like against the tiled walls. They were in L's old HQ again and Light looked around him at the familiar surroundings. The bathroom was still as blank and boring as it ever was, like nothing had changed and no time had passed. Ryuk's outline was faint now, but his smile was the same large, spiked crescent. He phased through the wall.

Light decided to follow him to see where he went. It might be the last time he ever saw him, or the next time he did he may not be a welcome sight. He opened the door which led into L's bedroom. Ryuk wasn't there, just the red evening sky outside. It filled the room with red light like paint, with darker spots spattered up the walls by the bed, and the colour soaking into the bedsheets. The red was on the blond boy's hair where he sat like a doll against the wall alongside a red-haired boy. Both stared at Light. A middle-aged man was lying on the floor where Light had left him with a jacket under his head. A dark-haired man in a sharp suit and a burned face sat on a chair in the corner, his neck all bent out of shape. A woman was cross-legged in the middle of the room with a book near her feet. An old man and a blonde girl lay face-down next to each other. The room was littered with dolls and Light had to step over them to get through.

The red was wet on L's shirt, and across his throat like Ryuk's smile. Why was L just lying there, perfectly still and covered in paint? Light took a step towards him when he saw that his own legs were red and glistening. Blood dripped from his hands and from the knife that he held.

* * *

Light's eyes flashed open as he dream ended. He sat up in the chair and eased out the tension in his neck from sleeping so awkwardly.

"Good morning," L said, looking up from his computer.

"Yeah," Light replied, still rubbing his neck. L examined his face for clues. From Light's sluggish reactions, it was clear that he had had another bad dream again

"Do you want to talk about it?" L asked, but he had already turned his attention back to the computer, appearing to have lost interest already. Light's recurring dreams were old news to him now, as was the inevitable response.

"No, it's fine."

"One day you might tell me, then you might not have the dream again," L said.

"It's not worth talking about." Light opened a window. Cold air hit his face as he leaned outside into the darkness and a little solar system of shop and car lights on the street below.

"Have you had your medication?" L asked with apparent disinterest. Light turned to face him, leaning against the window frame.

"Of course. Why, don't you trust me?" Light smiled.

"I trust that you know that it's in your best interests."

"It doesn't help me, L. I don't need help."

L didn't rely. He only pushed his hair out his eyes and stared more intensely at the laptop screen. Light knew that L counted the tablets every morning and every night, but sometimes Light thought that he was being invited to do something.

"We can stay here a few more days by the way," L said. "You can choose where we go next."

"I don't care really. You choose."

"You cared a few hours ago."

"Maybe Russia then," Light suggested immediately to cut L short on that line of inquiry.

"Just any old place in the general area of Russia then. Nice and vague. Ryuk will never find us in Vagueinov."

"Or Prague. But really, you choose."

"We were only just in Prague. We should move about a bit more."

"Whatever."

"Yes, I know. You don't really care."

"Sorry," he muttered. L's eyes glanced up quickly to meet his before he smiled slightly and looked back at the computer again. "No news tonight then?" Light asked.

"I wouldn't know. It's not my business anymore."

"No. It's not mine either." The thought did occur to Light that if L wasn't looking up the news on the computer, what exactly was he doing? Just travel plans? He couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Maybe you could try actually sleeping in a bed now," L suggested. "I should have woken you but... Anyway, you shouldn't keep my hours."

"Yeah, I suppose," Light agreed. He walked past L towards the bedroom, taking a little detour to kiss his forehead as he went. Just before he left the room he stopped. "L?"

"Yes?"

"You don't hate me, do you?" L turned around at the question.

"No, I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Light asked. L stared at him for a minute and then went back to his computer.

"Go to bed, Light. You're tired" he said.

"You don't know," Light answered for him. He stared at L's back for a while before going to bed.

* * *

In the hotel, Light had found a library. He was impressed that any hotel had a library, particularly since no one seemed to use it, and was grateful that he could be sure of being undisturbed there for long stretches of time. Sitting at a table with his back to the door, he heard a recognisable footfall and the door creak open.

"What do you want, L?" he asked without turning. His voice was laced with sarcasm, disappointment, and annoyance, all of which were fighting for the top spot. He avoided looking at him for fear of doing something insipid instead, like smiling.

"Oh! Good afternoon," L said, cheerfully. "I didn't think you'd be in here. I thought that you would be slumming it with the bourgeoisie downstairs instead of slumming it with dead poets in here. How did you know that it was me?"

"Who else could it be? You sound like a one-legged flamingo in a funeral procession when you walk. Don't let me put you off though, you carry on with whatever you were doing. The romance section is over there." Light was lazily dramatic, gesticulating in strange directions like he was performing a Victorian melodrama.

"No more romance for me. Well, I've been caught out. I was actually looking for you."

"You shock me. I don't think my heart can take anymore of these surprises."

L picked up a bottle which sat on the table in front of Light. He read the label and placed it back down with no hint of surprise. "I was thinking that we could be tourists and explore the city, but since you're raging drunk we better leave it for another day."

"I'm not drunk," Light scoffed. "I just found this hidden behind an encyclopaedia so I had a swig. It tastes of mouthwash. And who needs the city anyway?"

"You found it and drank it? So you're a thief on top of everything else. In regards to the city, we are in Berlin, and there's no point in me going alone. Who would listen to my disparaging asides about the weather? What are you doing anyway? Only you could sit in a library this size and not find anything worth reading. Also, you're not really supposed to smoke in here."

Light frowned at his own horrible habit, but it was his, and he wasn't prepared to give it up until he chose to. "Aren't I naughty?" he said. "This is the one of the few things I have which annoys you. You control everything else so let me have this at least."

L looked at Light's modified ashtray, a teacup which was half full of tea and a couple of cigarette butts which floated sadly on the surface like victims of the Titanic. "Is something upsetting you or are you trying to send smoke signals?"

"None of the above," Light answered. L watched him, his head cocked to one side.

"Talk to me about Light's head right now."

"My head has nothing to say and neither do I."

"People love to talk about themselves and you're no different. Come on, what message do you have for a grateful nation?" L asked, taking the seat opposite. Light breathed out and smiled bitterly.

"They've elected a new Prime Minister of Japan."

"So you're seen the news. You really should try to avoid it. It is bound to lead to either indigestion or murderous thoughts in your case."

Light was so used to L's digs that they hardly registered. They added up over time, but he hardly ever objected to them individually. In turn, he said what he liked, not caring if it was too revealing. If L asked, then he answered, if he had an answer. L couldn't empathise with him on many things, which often led to one way conversations during which Light would have had a better response from a brick wall. "I've been completely forgotten. It's gone back to how it was before," he confessed.

"Oh no, Light. I'm certain that you haven't been forgotten. Try as they might, the world cannot forget you. Here, read some Kafka," he said, pushing a book towards him. Light glanced at the cover impassively.

"What is that,_ The Trial_? Are you seriously suggesting that I read that at a time like this? Anyway, I've read it."

"Ah, but this is in German. You should only read literature in the original language. Don't let the fact that you can't understand German put you off."

"I can't take your cheerfulness, L. I really can't. Not today," Light said as he tossed the book as far away from him as he could.

"And what is wrong with today, Light?" L asked, bracing himself.

"The same as yesterday and the same as every day."

"Light - "

"Running and hiding with no hope. It's pointless," Light concluded. Just when he thought that he'd hit rock bottom, the ground gave way to several more flights of stairs. He felt a strong urge to smack his head against something solid. The only reason he didn't do it was because he thought that L might applaud.

As it happened, L appeared unmoved by Light's personal crisis. He raised an eyebrow at his statement, but decided that shrugging it off was the best reaction. "It's not so very bad," he said.

"We'll run out of hotels," Light grumbled. "We can't circle the globe forever like fucking... swallows."

"I don't see why not. And I don't understand why you're indulging in a pity party when we're probably less than five minutes away from somewhere which sells strudel."

The word 'strudel' caught Light off-guard as he was rubbing the headache from his forehead. He stopped and stared at L's blank canvas of a face as though he'd been unexpectedly shot in the arse. "What the fuck has strudel got to do with anything?" he asked, loudly.

"That's just the effect you have you on me, Light. You make me want to kiss you, hit you, eat something, or throw myself out of a window."

"I wish that you'd settle on the latter. Every time I try to have a serious conversation with you, you start talking about strudel or something else completely unrelated to what we're talking about."

"Correction. What _you're_ talking about. And I have no interest in what you're talking about. Don't look at me like that. I just don't know what you expect me to say."

"Showing an interest would be a start."

L propped himself up in the chair to look slightly more alert. "Ok. Look, I'm interested."

"So I see. Well, firstly, you're trivialising things. I don't believe that you can actually feel as ecstatic about our situation as you're making out."

"What am I trivialising?" L asked, but was beaten down by Light's glare. "Oh, that. Yes, Light, we're going to die. This is not a revelation to me but I can see that it is for you. The only thing that's changed is that we know _how_ we're going to die, which is nice in a way because it means that there's no point in us worrying about cholesterol and cardiovascular disease anymore."

"No, really, I think you're deluded. You're acting as though you've won the lottery. What if Ryuk gets bored with chasing us, hmm? Do you really believe that he has any sense of honour that he will keep a promise to you? He'll get fed up and then we'll be dead. Sometimes it gets really boring waiting for it to happen."

It was clear to L now that what he suspected was correct; Light's problem was not that they were living with a sword hanging by a thread over them, it was that he had no control over the situation. As long as L had known him, Light's search for domination, even over the most bland aspects of his life, had been the source of his greatest moments of angst and lunacy. Light had, in effect, been driven mad by it, and L's shoulders fell in defeat when he realised that he expected to contribute and console him for something he had no pity for.

"Well, at least we won't see it coming," he said. "You must learn to cope with your boredom in other ways because you've exhausted me with your sulking. Again, I feel the need to remind you that we're in Berlin and you have never been here before. It really is quite nice, despite the weather. I think that you bring a rain cloud with us wherever we go. Anyway, it may not happen, as they say. If I leave clues then it will keep him occupied."

"Why?"

"Because I have chased people all my life, Light, and it's actually quite compelling. I have also been chased and I find that the less you think about it, the better."

"But you haven't been chased by a shinigami before. Don't try to understand Ryuk, you don't know him. You're a man with obsessive compulsive disorder and what is interesting to you will not be interesting to him. He'll get bored with chasing us, knowing that he could find out where we are in five minutes if he wanted to. If he did then he could go and cause trouble somewhere else."

"There's no reason for him to stop causing trouble while he is looking for us. I won't stop him," L said. Light rested his head on his hand as he looked at L.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

L almost laughed at the question, the answer being something he thought should be perfectly obvious to Light or other any person with half a brain cell, but he didn't want to bring it up. Light wouldn't accept even partial blame for anything.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I often wonder that, myself. I wonder how it has ended up this way, disgraced and doomed with you, a depressed Dr. Strangelove."

"It won't work. This whole thing won't work."

"What do you want from me, Light? Do you want me to agree with you?"

Light abruptly leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling like a poet with writer's block. "I... I just want you to be honest with me. I just want you, I suppose."

"You have me. In several ways. And fairly often."

"No, I don't. Not really," Light said, ignoring L's feeble attempts to make him laugh. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected from talking to L like this, while somehow avoiding the main issue. Perhaps he should be blunt? The fact was that he wanted a lot from L which he wasn't prepared or able to give him. He wanted to hear L admit that he could never forgive him because, although it wasn't something he particularly wanted to hear, the pretence was making him feel perpetually sick. He wanted L to stop being so disgustingly blithe for nobody's benefit. But most of all, he wanted to know that L didn't think that he had cheated death, won the war, and that nothing at all was wrong. As it was, it seemed that all Light had achieved was to make L look suicidal.

"You're such a little kitten of joy, Light," L sighed. "As an analogy, it's a game of roulette and I have put all my chips on one number. It might turn out well, it might not. The banker might turn out to be a cheat, but it buys me you and it buys us time while the wheel spins. You do realise that had I not done this, you would have died three months ago?"

"It would have been better that way."

"Don't say that." L shifted in his chair. He was going to leave Light to it. They could sulk in different rooms. Light saw this coming and took hold of L's arm to keep him in place.

"Why not? It's true, isn't it? I can't say that being Kira was the happiest time of my life, but at least I had a purpose. Now I have nothing and we're Bonnie and Clyde-ing all over the place. You're just obsessed with winning. You saw two ways to win and you chose this one."

"I wouldn't say that I won, but I would rather be here with you, whining as you are, than alone or with you in a cemetery. Because I didn't like being without you. Although based on this conversaton, I have no idea why."

"Well, Ryuk is going to kill me and there's nothing you can do about that. My life has been halved anyway."

"If you keep drinking meths that you find behind library books then you're definitely not going to last long."

"But it's not just that. You've never spoken about that day and I think that you should."

"You don't want to know what I think. Let's just say that I'm not terribly impressed with what you did and leave it at that," L said, coldly. "There's no need to discuss it to death. I chose you. Hurray. There were bound to be casualties because that tends to happen where you're concerned. And it's done now, nothing can be changed. You don't care how I feel about it, you only think that you should. As you told me, Ryuk was going to kill you at some point anyway and you accepted that from the start. He didn't take much persuading to spare you for a while, at least. I think he sees himself in you. All in all, I really don't see what you're so upset about."

"Don't talk to me about Ryuk. And, for your information, I'm upset because all you've done is postpone the inevitable and dragged yourself into it. We're both going to die now, so I'm sorry if I don't feel like opening a bottle of champagne and singing the hallelujah chorus. You do that enough for both of us," Light said. They sat in silence for a moment as L tried to find the real cause for this sudden downturn.

"This is about the dream, isn't it?" L asked. Light's head fell into his hands with frustration.

"No. I'd forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me."

"But you have been reading the papers again. I told you not to do that. You always get like this when you read the news, like an impotent Pol Pot."

"Oh shut up. I'm well aware that I can't do anything useful now, thanks to you. My work is being dragged through the mud."

"Ah, yes, your 'great work'," L laughed bitterly. "With your outstanding ability to meddle with and destroy other people's lives, you would have made a wonderful politician. Why get a law degree when you have one in being an egotistical bastard? So yes, despite your efforts, the world is slowly returning to normal. Are you surprised at how quickly everyone resumed being corrupt, wicked and murderous, or does it upset you that you're not the one doing the murdering?" L practically spat at him, his patience well and truly stretched, beaten up, and left to bleed to death at the side of the road. But he regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth. That Light didn't reply and was instead gazing longingly at the bottle of gin made him feel even worse. "Sorry," he added, hastily.

"No you're not."

"Ok, I'm sorry that I upset you although what I said is factually true."

Light's voice was barely a whisper as he attempted to defend himself. "I was doing good," he said. "I was willing to sacrifice myself -"

"To make the world a better place. Yes, I know. You're all about worldwide peace and harmony, but what it would take to achieve that is to annihilate the entire human race. That was more or less your conclusion, not mine. I don't expect you to like being thrown on the scrapheap of life, but one day I hope you can admit to yourself that in many ways you are a piece of shit. Thankfully, I like you quite a bit, probably because I am a piece of shit too, which is why you're still alive. I don't expect you to be grateful, but the least you could do is to make the best of things instead of lounging around the place, smoking this rubbish and stealing other people's mouthwash."

"I'm a piece of shit," Light repeated, tonelessly. "Great. I really feel like seeing the world and enjoying life now."

"You're a piece of shit with a diamond inside. Or maybe cubic zirconia, but it doesn't matter."

"Lovely." Light reached for the bottle of horrible stuff.

"I mean that I understand your reasons for doing what you did," L added, swiping the bottle from Light's hands. "It just happened to be warped and reprehensible. It is not my intention to tell you unless you're being a massive prick, which is what you are now."

"What I did was not wrong," Light said sternly, his eyes meeting L's.

"If you think so, Light. I thought that we had agreed to disagree on that issue."

"You said that you understood."

"I'm gifted with a magical power of seeing that a murderer is created. While I used to be of the opinion that murderers must be wiped from the face of the planet, you managed to change my mind. Remind me why I love you again?"

"Not in a library," Light said, casually. "And I don't like being called a murderer. You know that that's not true."

"Yes, it's true. You treated people like chess pieces and killed them if their deaths were beneficial to you. No, it's not murder, it's 'divine justice'. I forgot. One rule for you and a completely different one for everyone else. Will I ever learn?"

"You don't understand," Light exhaled after having that fact confirmed for him.

"Oh, I understand you well enough. You don't understand yourself. I've never known anyone who can make up so many hypocritical theories to excuse themselves as you can. Are you happy now, Light? Has this little argument stirred up your precious sense of indignation and recharged your batteries? Because I would have been quite happy with a cup of tea."

"What does that make you then? By your reckoning, you're like one of those idiots who marries a man on death row."

"Well, as you keep telling me, we're both on death row now."

"Really, I wish that you hadn't bothered," Light grumbled as L stood up.

"I'm sorry that you think that, but I'll buy you dinner anyway."

"I'm not hungry." He watched as L started clearing the table of incriminating evidence mess. Unsure of what to do with the cigarette box and cup of horror, he opened a window and dropped them to the street below. "So that's it? And now we have dinner?" Light asked, incredulously.

"I hate arguing on an empty stomach," L explained. Light pushed him away as he attempted to force him to stand.

"I'm tired of eating and I'm tired of being tired and I'm tired of this conversation!"

"My, what secrets you hide in your prism of a heart. That's the Light I know and love some of the time."

"You don't love me, you're just confused. You hate me. You only did this magnificent display of self-sacrifice because... I don't know why."

"I don't know why either sometimes. You should be pleased that I thought that your life was worth saving."

"I don't think of it as saving, I see it as selfish stupidity."

"That might be true."

"It is true, there's no 'might be' about it. Still, there's nothing to be done about it now. Whether I die today, tomorrow, next month, or in a few decades, there's a poetic justice about it, don't you think? I tried my best to get away from you, and now we're right back where we started."

"Oh, Light. You say the nicest things."

"At least you're happy."

"I can't say that I'm _un_happy. I have some regrets but I have time to ponder over them at length."

"You might not have time. You might die any second."

"I hope it doesn't happen when I'm on the toilet. Imagine that," L said. Light laughed at his worried expression.

"That would be strangely fitting too."

"So, are you going to spend what time you do have gazing out of windows and reliving your glorious past?"

"I'm reviewing my options. I'm yet to find any to review."

"Just try to stay as stupid and unimaginative as you can. That way you won't get yourself into any more trouble."

* * *

Walking back from the restaurant on the cold night, each of them breathing warm clouds into the air, Light wondered how long L could rhapsodise about strudel. He desperately tried to change the subject but decided to make a run for it instead. He rushed ahead a few paces to the hotel entrance and jogged on the spot waiting for L to catch up to him. L was wearing a more substantial coat than Light, but of course, it was nowhere near as stylish, which was what mattered.

"Hurry up!" Light shouted.

"Bloody fishwife. All I ever wanted was a quiet life," L moaned, once he reached him. They walked inside the lobby of the hotel and past a congregation of bored looking staff in black uniforms. They looked like a murder of crows and were too drained by life to pay attention to whoever came and went out of the building. Light didn't reply until he and L were safely confined in the elevator.

"Well you have a quiet life now," he said. "The most exciting part of the day is having a hot chocolate before bed and waiting for death." Light appeared to find that funny. His life had descended into a mockery, but his mood had improved considerably from earlier that day. Sometimes it was easier to ignore his failure. He could even pretend that none of it really happened at all when in a suitable frame of mind. The intensity of his frustrated outrage forced his mind into autopilot. He was far from being an untroubled youth, but he never had been. Bring content was not possible for someone with his deadly combination of seriousness and antipathy for things others tended to accept as being part of life. But now he was in this place, and L was all he needed, wasn't he? If L could turn away from everything dear to him, Light could try to turn his face away from what he knew in his soul was wrong and ignore the urge to make them better. You can paint the wings of a moth to make it a butterfly, but it would still be a moth underneath, and that could not be changed.

L was inspecting the silver foil parcel of cake that he was holding and wondered if the foil was supposed to resemble an obese swan. "Now, Light, don't be morbid again," he complained. "It's not as if I have any need to earn a living; we have more than enough to live on, although I forgot how much you spend on clothes and hair products. Still, even factoring your extravagant self- indulgence, we are fairly well off. It seems you have courted a fitting suitor."

"Oh yes, I'm thrilled by it all," Light said, while leaning heavily on the rail. "And why not? Nothing seems quite so bad when I'm unconscious. What are you planning to do now then? Nothing? Rest on your laurels?" He hopped on the spot in the continuing effort to warm himself up and the lift wobbled from side to side as they ascended.

"Please don't do that," L pleaded as he steadied himself. "Haven't we discussed this? I still don't know. I don't see how I can continue doing what I did, and I don't think I know how to do anything else. I wasn't exactly trained for a career change."

"No, I suppose not."

"Do you want to do something?"

"L, when you've been who I've been, you can't exactly get a job in a service station. Besides, we have to keep moving all the time. I can die with dignity, or I can suffer abject humiliation. Or, in my case, both. But without the dignity." Light stared at the floor indicator slowly light up numbers as he spoke. He said desperate things with a smile on his face now, but it made L sad anyway because he knew that he meant what he said, or at least part of it.

L looked to the ugly carpet under his feet. "I don't like it when you're like this. Not that you've ever been anything else. But I wish that you were happier,"

"I am, in a way," Light said, bending over to look at L's face from an upside-down angle. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? What a step forward. You could break bones with your apologies."

"I mean for being miserable when you don't want me to be, not for anything else. Don't read too much into it."

"So you only care that you're upsetting me?" L asked, unable to comprehend it, and watched Light shrug off his shred of embarrassment.

"I don't want to upset you any more than I have already. Like I said, don't read too much into it."

"You don't owe me, Light. You never were the life and soul of the party. I've been thinking that perhaps this moving from place to place doesn't suit you. You need consistency, isolation and bad coffee to help lower your expectations."

Light took a step back, crossed his arms and smiled at how breezily L was attempting to control his life. "Do I now?" he asked.

"There's a cottage in Scotland which I was considering buying. Actually, scrap that. I bought it. I'm sorry. It was an impulse buy."

"Right."

"It's very nice," L assured him.

"A cottage for cottaging. Sounds perfect. So are you imagining a little pastoral scene involving the two of us harvesting daffodils and turnips as the sun sets over the Cairngorms?"

"How did you know that it was near the Cairngorms?"

"I read your emails, L," Light replied, raking a hand through his hair, arrogantly.

"Oh yes, of course you do. So much has changed and yet so little."

"It's really cold there," Light observed. This was a bad idea. From what he'd seen of the area, there were probably signs warning you about dragons and aggressive men in skirts. He had time to adjust to the idea of living somewhere so desolate and inhospitable, but he wondered if there would be electricity and running water.

"We can stockpile jumpers," L reasoned.

"We could knit them using the wool from our very own flock of sheep."

"I'm trying, Light," L said, again, sadly. Light thought that he must be getting sick of looking at his feet all the time. He leaned down again and kissed him.

"I know and I love you for it. Thank you."

"And I'm sorry," L told him. Yes, he should be sorry for this. He felt guilty because most of the time he wasn't sorry at all, only for the people who had to die so that he and Light, who were so undeserving, could live.

"Why should you be sorry?" Light asked.

"Many things. I'm sorry that you've been ruined by what started out as a good intention."

"For a minute there I thought that you were sorry that you saved my life, kind of, at the cost of your own. I'm not 'ruined'." Light dismissed the idea that he was or could ever be ruined, but L would never let it go.

"No," L replied. "Just because you're breathing doesn't mean that you haven't been completely destroyed."

"I'll live."

They continued to walk in silence down the corridor. As they drew nearer to their room door and L fumbled for the key, Light laughed.

"What?" L said, looking up quickly, still unused to hearing Light laughing, however ironic it sounded. Light leaned against the door, facing him like he was imparting some heavy knowledge that not many people knew.

"I read once that when you walk away from all the gods, it keeps you safe from dying. But it doesn't. Not really."

"It's not very fair, is it?" L remarked, twisting the key in the lock. The click echoed around them.

"I don't know. Maybe it is."

Light walked in first. He turned on a lamp by the door but stood completely still when he caught sight of something dark in the corner of the room.

* * *

Last incredibly long **A/N** of ever because I can. I had to add some more twaddle because I left someone off who was very annoyed to find that they weren't mentioned. God's sake, this is not an acceptance speech.

To be clear (ironically), the last line is ambiguous, as are a few other things. It's not all doom and gloom if you don't want it to be. It could be that Ryuk found them, or it could just be a shadow and Light's paranoia, hence the weird dream, medication reference, etc. There's also the option that even if Ryuk found them, Light _could_ ask him for another death note, he might say ok, and on it goes. Or, they might be dead.

Bit of an explanation about Light's evil plot of woe thing because when I ran it past the annoyed left-out-of-the-Nobel-Prize-speech friend he was like, "Nah, dude. No more Pimm's for you." I think I also ran it past WB ages ago and she must have been ok about it since I wouldn't have used this ending otherwise. So, what's the worst thing Light can do apart from his usual killing of loads of people? I heard about a link between chemicals/hormones in the drinking water and male infertility, so I read about that and made it worse. It's a mix between that story, eugenics, _Children of Men_ by P.D. James, the use of Agent Orange, and formaldehyde which was poured down the drain in South Korea a few years ago. Of course, Light wouldn't mess up as much as he does in this fic, and Ryuk probably wouldn't want to play hide and seek, but whatever. Fan bloody fiction.

So, you know what this 200,000+ word fic needs? More words. Granted, I think that at least 100,000 of those words are author's notes. I've hacked the bejesus out the whole thing over the last week or so with the intention of editing it right down, but replaced the hacked out bits with new lines and blah. The early chapters need a complete rewrite which I can't be arsed with right now. I know, let it go, halfpromise, you mad bint. You have committed enough crimes against the perfectly good _Death Note_ franchise. Yeah. It's just that the weather is awful here at the moment and there's not much else to do. Plus, some of what I have written makes me cringe more than usual and must be destroyed. Everyone's a smoker in this bloody thing. *shifty eyes*

Someone has very kindly written a page about this fic on **TV Tropes** (I'll add a link to it on my profile) which makes all of this sound better and funnier than it actually is since I've exhausted every trope going. Much love to you, whoever you are. I was surprised and even spat some coffee over my computer from unexpected funnies so I hope you're reading this. Being down as a Brit Com just made me happy. {Edit, I also stole the summary from the tvtropes page because it was so much better than mine. Really hope that whoever wrote it doesn't mind!?}

Anyway, done. Thank you for all the interest, support and reviews. Most of you have taken this the way it was intended even though it's the fanfic equivalent of marmite and is really silly. Love to all reviewers, especially those who've been there since the early days. Thanks for reading. Bye! xxx

* * *

**Wordbombs**, many thanks for your help, friendship, and for being one of the most amazing people I've never met. Ya know I lubbs ya, bbz. My minions are fucking. x **MuffinGuy**, if you're reading this, firstly, why? Secondly, look at this monster combination of Gwyneth Paltrow, Sally Field, and Natalie Portman while giving their Oscar speeches right now. Look at this shit. In a pirate hat. AMIRITE? Thank you, miss you, love you. Happy now?


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